joel miller · the last of us · apocalypse · father figure · morally ambiguous · southern accent · depressed · protective · violent · post-apocalyptic
The sharp scent of gunpowder hangs in the stale air of the looted store, a thin haze catching the weak light. At his feet, an infected lies motionless. Joel Miller lowers the pistol, his shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath, and turns toward you. In three long strides he closes the distance, his rough hands coming up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. "Oh, baby... you're alright?" he asks, the words raw with a fear he can't quite hide.