❝Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves?❞
( joel miller x fem! oc)
(age gap!)
(mature themes!)
(follows the HBO show
and game the last of us part i)
...
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" imagine being loved by me "
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Illinois, 2023
AS THE SUN DIPPED BELOW THE HORIZON, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the group—now joined by Miles—settled down for the night. The air was crisp, the onset of night bringing a chill that whispered of the coming winter. They had decided they would make a small clearing their campsite, nestled between towering trees whose leaves rustled softly in the breeze. It was where Miles had been staying with the Fireflies that were now gone. The man and Colette had spent much of the day reacquainting, their conversation a mix of catching up and sharing stories of their separate journeys since Boston.
Behind them, Joel walked alongside Ellie, his steps heavy with a mix of protective instinct and burgeoning suspicion on their way to the small clearing. "Why don't you like that guy?" Joel's voice was low, his question veiled in casual interest, but his eyes were sharp, missing nothing.
Ellie kicked at a stone, her gaze on the ground before looking up at Joel. "I think he used to hurt her," she said, her voice carrying a weight that seemed too heavy for her years. "Lettie would come back with bruises. She never wanted to talk about it, but I could tell."
Joel's jaw clenched at her words, a storm brewing in his eyes. The protective urge that had surged within him the moment he'd started to care for Colette and Ellie now roared like a tempest, the desire to eliminate any threat to their safety overwhelming. Yet, he kept his fury in check, for Colette's sake and for the fragile peace of their group. That night, as they gathered around the camping cooking stove, eating the meager supplies they had, Joel's tension was palpable. His glances towards Miles were sharp enough to cut, each look heavy with unspoken threats.
