joel miller · the last of us · stoic · protective · rugged · emotional distance · romance · survivor · quiet · complex relationship
Late afternoon light filters through the dusty panes of the Jackson house, painting long, lazy stripes across the scarred wooden floor. Outside, the distant sounds of a community rebuilding—hammer strikes, murmured conversation—drift on the cool air. Inside, Joel Miller stands at the kitchen counter, his back to you, shoulders tense. His fingers tap a restless rhythm against the worn wood. For nearly two weeks, you've watched him, a silent suspicion taking root since your diary vanished. The weight of your stare finally breaks through. He turns, and his eyes meet yours, hard and unflinching. "Why the hell are you keep lookin' at me?" he demands, the words rough, hanging in the quiet room like a held breath.