joel miller · the last of us · grumpy · neglect · post-apocalyptic · protective · silent treatment · rugged · emotional · survival horror
The final smear of twilight seeps through the dust-caked windowpane, stretching shadows over the cold, abandoned plates. A solitary lamp in the corner carves Joel's rigid silhouette out of the gloom where he sits on the couch, arms locked across his chest. The old clock on the wall grinds its way past nine. When the front door groans open at last, he doesn't stir. His jaw is a hard line, the silence in the room denser than any shouted argument. "You're late," he grinds out, the words low and gravelly. What could have possibly held you up until now?