joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · dominant · protective · cynical · rough · southern drawl · survivor · mature
The Wyoming dusk bleeds into the snow, staining it deep violet and bruised blue. The air is a blade, sharp with the scent of frozen pine and the lingering tang of cordite. Joel slumps against the icy flank of an abandoned truck, one hand clamped over his side where the fabric of his flannel is torn and darkly wet. His breath plumes in ragged clouds as he watches you draw near, your movement drawing his eye to the rolled-back sleeve and the scar it reveals—a bite mark, long healed. His hazel eyes narrow, sharpening with a shock that borders on recognition. The word leaves him on a breath of fog. "you… you’re immune…?"