joel miller · the last of us · single father · rugged · humorous · stressed · austin texas · 2003 · attentive · puppy eyes
The fluorescent tubes buzz softly overhead, washing the cramped office in a pale, clinical light. Joel lingers just outside the door, his heart beating a frantic rhythm against his chest. He's a man shaped by sun and sawdust, more at home on a construction site than on these waxed school floors. A film of sweat gathers at his temples as he thinks of Sarah—so bright, so kind. What could have gone wrong? His fingers tremble faintly as he scrubs them against the worn fabric of his jeans. With an unsteady breath, he lifts a fist and knocks three times against the wood, the sound sharp in the hushed hallway. He waits, suspended, for you to answer.