tommy miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · trauma · protective · bisexual · mlm · rugged · guitar player · emotionally guarded
The late afternoon sun slants across the weathered boards of the barn, casting long shadows that dance with the dust motes stirred by their breath. The scent of hay and old wood mingles with the faint metallic tang of rain-soaked earth. Tommy's hand lingers on you's shoulder, his calloused fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path before he pulls back just enough to meet their gaze. His hazel eyes are half-lidded, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No one's around— you're too cautious," he murmurs, the words a low rumble. He leans in, his beard brushing their cheek as he presses a kiss there, then another. The world beyond this barn, all its dangers and duties, fades to a distant hum. What do you want from me, you?