Chapter Text
Joel’s breath is hot on Ellie’s neck. One of his arms holds her flush against the solid wall of his chest, the other travels down past her navel to cup the whole of her sex. He licks the shell of her ear, and she whimpers, electricity crackling under her skin. When he dips a finger between her slick folds to tease her sensitive cunt, she hisses, recoiling back and inadvertently pressing against his stiffening length.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice soft with sleep but tense with concern. It should be impossible, she thinks, for someone’s voice to sound both as smooth as butter and as rough as gravel.
Ellie licks her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. “No, I—“
“Because you have to tell me if it hurts," Joel insists.
“I know, I know. I’m just a little sore,” Ellie protests, trying to quell his worries. “Last night was the most action I’ve gotten in…well— ever.”
“Mhm,” he responds, not sounding entirely convinced. To her relief, he doesn't remove his hand entirely but tempers his touch, his long fingers gingerly grazing the fine hair covering her pubic mound.
“But if…if you want, I can—“ She reaches for his erection, but Joel catches her hands, moving so his body covers hers, his strong hips pinning her to the bed.
He presses her wrists into the pillow on each side of her head. She inhales sharply when his thumbs brush along her feverish pulse. "Hands to yourself."
Ellie’s eyes widen slowly while his stay intently locked onto her face. The stern order is woefully familiar, but the context in which he's giving it is delightfully new and exciting.
Something about this feels so grown-up. Exhilaratingly, Ellie realizes that she's not a kid anymore. She's a woman. And Joel has no qualms about having her as a woman, completely nude and in his bed. The epiphany makes her break out in a sweat, her heartbeat quickening and lower half squirming under the scrutiny of his gaze.
Speaking of which, Joel is still only gazing at her. Piercing hazel eyes jump to her throat when she swallows, then sweep lower to admire her pert breasts and flat stomach. She shivers and the slight tremble of her body spurs him into action.
Joel leans down and his wide chest skims her own, his sparse chest hair stimulating her already hard nipples. She arches her back off of the bed to press against him, relishing the heat radiating off of his skin. “I can be gentle," he drawls softly. The words are spoken directly into her ear, but his husky tone resonates all the way down to her toes.
True to his word, light touches caress her body as he moves down the bed, situating himself between her legs. This time he uses his tongue, tentatively parting her folds before licking up her dripping slit and planting an open mouth kiss on her clit.
“Fuck,” Ellie chokes out. Joel flattens his tongue against her clitoral hood and moves it in agonizingly slow circles. Her fingers fly to his hair, wanting to hasten his pace. He pulls away and she whines, unmistakably annoyed.
“Hands,” he reminds her, his voice comically muffled by the comforter covering his head. She considers removing it to gain a clearer view, but the night is cold. Dreadfully cold.
“Fine,” Ellie grumbles, opting instead to place them on her thighs, parting her legs farther and urging him on without actually touching him. “What happened to needing to 'see what you're workin' with'?” She lowers her voice, imitating his Southern timbre with excessive gruffnes.
“I could do this with my eyes closed, darlin’." Joel's beard scratches her thigh when he speaks, sending jolts of pleasure down to her toes and up to her cunt, causing them to curl and clench respectively.
“Then shut up and do it," she growls.
He chuckles, his breath tickling her belly, before returning his mouth to her center. Broad swipes, short strokes, tight circles—he performs every action with adept precision. She'd finished quickly the last time his head was between her thighs and was robbed of the chance to fully absorb the dizzying sensation. Her eyelids slip shut as she tunes everything out except for the blissful wetness of his mouth and the hot stroke of his tongue.
Somewhere in the back of her mind it dawns on Ellie that he’s testing her; trying to determine what she likes best. The truth is—she likes all of it. A fact that she voices loudly and without restraint.
The pressure in her core is close to reaching a fever pitch, and the order he gave her is getting harder and harder to follow. She wants to grab him and grind against his generous mouth. The image of her above him, riding his face flashes before her eyes and she has to claw at her thighs to fight the urge to seize him.
“Yes, yes, yes," Ellie chants a low, relentless chorus of selfish invocation. Hands curl around her knees, pushing them even farther apart and spreading her wide open. His tongue rolls over the taut bud at the apex of her sex and she whimpers, her head lolling against the soft pillow.
She’s on the edge of a cliff, sea breeze blowing on her face, one foot off the ledge—
Downstairs a door slams shut.
They both tense.
“Joel!”
God damn, Tommy.
It’s two o’clock in the fucking morning, and Tommy just waltzed through Joel’s front door like he owns the place. Why doesn’t he ever lock his doors?
Ugh. She’s the reason he never locks his doors: 'Just in case you ever need me.'
Ellie’s so frustrated she could scream. But she’s also so frustrated she could climax. The horrifying prospect of being discovered by Joel’s brother, of all people, in such a compromising position sends a thrill up her spine and pushes her even closer to the precipice she’s precariously teetering over.
“Don’t you fucking stop,” she whispers urgently.
Maybe he’ll go away.
“Hey, Joel!”
Of course not. That would be too easy.
The swirl of his tongue quickens; she’s right there–
Stairs groan beneath them. Heavy footfalls clomp towards the, thankfully closed, bedroom door. A rush of cool air hits her body as Joel throws the comforter off of them and holds an index finger up to his full, wet lips, signaling for her to be quiet. “Just a minute!"
Ellie’s head falls back in irritation, her legs shaking from the pressure of the orgasm she’s not having. She turns her red face into the pillow and uses it to muffle a silent scream.
Joel grabs a white terry cloth robe on his way to the door and ties it tight around his waist to conceal the cock that hangs flushed and heavy between his strong thighs. Ellie watches with a wicked sense of pride when he wipes his soaked beard and mouth off on his shoulder before disappearing from her view behind the wall that separates the rest of his bedroom from its entry.
"What?" Joel snaps, out of breath. At least he sounds as frustrated by the interruption as she feels, and she feels pretty damn frustrated; her tiny hands fisting the tangled, sweat-soaked sheets so tightly that her knuckles turn white.
"Woah, man. Are you alright? It looks like you just ran a marathon," Tommy's Texan twang questions and part of her feels positively elated that she can reduce Joel to such a state of wanton need that his composed facade falls away so visibly. And she didn't even touch him.
"Look, Tommy, it's the middle of the night. You barge into my house hollerin' like a hit dog–"
"There's reports of a horde up the mountain pass to the west. Maria wants us to check it out."
Even from where Ellie is sprawled out in bed she can hear Joel cuss under his breath. "God damn it. Why us? Aren't there any other suckers who can–"
"After the dance?" Tommy belts out a laugh. "No one that she trusts enough and is sober enough."
"That's what I get for not drinkin'."
"Look, we patrol that route more often than anyone else. I know it like the back of my hand."
"A horde?"
"The Jenkins kid keeping watch called it in over the radio. He's green as grass and probably overreacting."
"Sure." Joel's response is flat and incredulous.
Tommy sighs. "Look, these born and bred Jackson kids ain't capable like Ellie. They spook easy."
"You're damn right about that." Ellie grins at the proud pitch of Joel's voice.
"Best case–we take out a few clickers. Worst case–we scope it out, perform some recon, and come back for reinforcements. Easy peasy."
There's a pause. A long pause.
"Easy peasy, huh?"
"C'mon. The quicker we leave, the quicker you can get back to your beauty sleep. Or night run. Whatever it is you're up to."
"Alright, alright," Joel grudgingly caves. "Go on, now. Wait downstairs while I get some clothes on."
Almost immediately after the door shuts, Ellie has to muffle a gasp of surprise when Joel’s hands and lips return to her skin, massaging her sides and peppering kisses about her navel.
She grabs the thick fabric around his neck and pulls him up to eye-level. "Where'd you steal this from, a senior living center?" She teases.
Joel smiles and runs his thumb along the line of her jaw. "How long have you been holding onto that one?"
"Since the moment you put it on,” she answers, her lips quirking up into an impish smile.
In the low light, his smile falters, remorse clouding his features. He swallows, about to break the news she's already heard. "I–"
"Have to go," Ellie finishes for him.
"I'm really sorry," Joel offers earnestly.
She sighs with obvious disappointment. "I know."
"But, uh, how about we pick this back up tonight? I can make you dinner. Maybe you can stay for a movie…" Joel's thumb drums a slow and steady beat against her chin.
She has to bite back the fit of giggles that bubbles in her chest at the realization that he's nervous about asking her to come over. Even after the mind-blowing, life-affirming night they just spent together.
Ellie kisses him and runs her tongue along his lips, tasting herself. He opens his mouth and presses against her, hard, until her head meets the pillow again. His knee hits the mattress, he's about to climb into bed–
A chair screeches against the wood floor beneath them, glaring and obnoxious. "Take your sweet time!" Tommy bellows from down below.
"I guess that's my cue," Joel mutters, his mouth twisting ruefully.
Unenthusiastically, he stands and makes his way to the closet, returning a short while later fully-clothed with a burgundy sweater in hand. He motions for Ellie to lift her arms. "This will keep you warm while I'm gone."
Ellie sits up, allowing him to pull the sweater over her head. She rubs the sleeve against her cheek, enjoying the softness and inhaling deeply. The woodsy aroma of Joel's natural musk is absent, but the fresh scent of pine soap fills her lungs. She could drown in it.
"No bottoms?" Ellie questions. Her knees are pulled up to her body, causing the sweater to bunch around her waist.
"Nope. I want my bed drenched with you," Joel drawls, sending her a devilish wink. She shivers as warmth drips down her spine, her cunt still swollen and throbbing with unreleased tension. "In the meantime–remember what I said about those hands."
Ellie snorts, rolling her eyes. "It'll be pretty easy to keep them to myself when I'm alone."
"No touchin' yourself either," Joel warns. One corner of his mouth pulls up into a roguish grin as he leans against the wall, casually resting his hands on his hips and weaving his thumbs through his belt loops. The adoring look in his eyes makes her heart's restless fluttering skip a beat.
"Joel," Ellie whines once his words register and she remembers how to breathe again. Her original plan was to slide her hand between her legs and work herself off the moment the front door closed. Maybe even use one of his pillows for assistance. He did say 'drenched', after all.
"You can wait," Joel declares breezily. He seems to be enjoying her frustration a little too much.
Ellie huffs a small puff of air through her nose, fidgeting with the hem of the sweater. "Tonight?"
"Tonight," he promises, pulling the comforter around her shoulders and tucking it beneath her chin. He brushes his lips across the scar that cuts through her brow–one of the many mysteries about her past that will never be solved. "Try to get some rest, darlin'."
Ellie doesn't need to be told twice, exhaustion replacing her sexual frustration at the awareness that she won't be climaxing any time soon. Relaxing back into the mattress on her side, she buries her face in the pillow, savoring the scent of Joel to keep her company in his absence.
The voices below drift off at the same time she does.
Behind her sleeping eyelids, visions of lush evergreens blow in the breeze. The trees' lengthy limbs gently rise and fall, breathing in time with the favorable wind and mimicking the cresting of waves against rocks far below. Up. Down. Up. Down.
Within seconds the clear pale blue sky darkens with foreboding gray clouds. Ellie hears a menacing crash of thunder and cold sheets of pelting rain soon follow. Each sharp drop pricks her bare skin, slicing straight to the bone and freezing her insides.
Ellie tries to move, but her feet are stuck to the ground, sinking into the earth like quicksand. Panic takes over, but she knows better than to struggle.
Struggling only makes it worse.
Suddenly hands jut out from the earth, grabbing her ankles, sharp claws digging into her skin. She's being pulled under, her torso descending into the darkness below. When she opens her mouth to scream, it fills with dirt, congesting her lungs and suffocating her. The last thing she sees is a jagged bolt of lightning heading straight for her–
Ellie lurches forward, awake and coughing out imaginary dirt. "Holy fucking shit," she curses.
A loud knocking from outside makes her jump.
Opposite her is a window overlooking Rancher Street. There's no pelting rain. No booming thunder. No blinding lightning. The calm sky is covered by a thin layer of benign stratus clouds that shroud the sun, dimming the early morning sky.
Early morning.
Shit.
Ellie looks at Joel's nightstand to check the time–6:23.
She is so fucked. And not in the fun, toe-curling way like last night.
Her feet hit the cold wood, and she nearly slips, her hand shooting out to catch herself on the bedside table where a pair of reading spectacles rests upon a copy of ' Space for Dummies'.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.
Following the rapid-fire knocking leads her to Joel's ensuite bathroom. Outside, Jesse thumps his clenched fist against the door to her garage home, behind which he must presume she's sleeping through her alarm and not half-naked in Joel's bathroom.
A chill drafts in through the closed window, and she shivers, knocking her bare knees together. Shit, where are my clothes?
The kitchen.
Ellie wraps her arms around her body, rubbing them up and down her sides in an effort to leech every bit of warmth possible from the sweater hanging around her thighs. She noses the lower half of her face into the collar, basking in the heat trapped within as she descends the stairs.
She pushes the corner of the gauzy curtain covering the window of the back porch door aside and peeks through the frosty glass. After a quiet hiatus from the racous banging, Jesse is back at it again with an insistent round of knocking.
KNOCK. "Hellloo." KNOCK. "Earth to Ellie!"
Fuck.
What if she just skips today? Ellie could say she's sick.
Then she remembers the last time Jesse had been hassling her about being late to patrols. Specifically, winter patrols. At the time, a cocktail of cannabis and Jesse's disarming demeanor pushed her to relent and mention–without going into detail–why she doesn't cope well this time of year.
Sometimes, nightmares hound her sleep, keeping her up through the night. Then when she finally dozes off, she's dead to the world. Nothing can wake her. Other times, she'll be awake all night, despondently staring at the ceiling. Unable to speak. Unable to hear. Unable to move. Those nights are the worst. She feels more like a corpse than an actual person.
KNOCK-KNOCK.
Jesse's annoying persistence probably stems from a place of genuine concern for her well-being. God, he's such a good friend, the sentimental sap. Ellie feels a stab of guilt that she'd even considered evading him.
A cautious inquiry into the heap of clothing on the kitchen floor deems her panties unfit for wear. She pulls her jeans on, wincing when the rough denim rubs directly against her swollen vulva. 'A little sore' had been an understatement.
Ellie attempts to shake out the wrinkles in her shirt for a whopping three seconds before calling it a lost cause, deciding to keep on the burgundy sweater. Joel won't mind. She can return it tonight. Tonight. Thinking the word spreads a smile across her face. After sliding her shoes on, she confirms that her switchblade is safe and sound in her back pocket and uses her free hand to pry the door open.
"C'mon man! One more minute and I'm breaking a win–"
"Damn, dude, you can't pick a simple lock?" Ellie teases, grimacing slightly as the brisk wind hits the bare skin of her face. Jesse's neck swivels so quickly in her direction that she's surprised it doesn't make an audible crack. "Embarrassing."
Her heart thumps irregularly against her ribcage, her hands shake with anxiety, and her feet are numb. But it's fine. Everything is fine.
Relaxing her shoulders and attempting to school her features into something resembling friendly neutrality, she tries her hardest to look casual. Not that casual is something that should ever take this much premeditated thought and conscious effort.
Just be cool. He's not going to know. How would he know?
Jesse approaches her where she stands on the back porch, his eyebrows inching further and further towards his hairline with each step. Once in front of her, he whistles, sharp and clear. "You and Joel must have made up, huh?"
What? How?
Ellie's puzzled gaze follows Jesse's hand as he gestures pointedly towards her neck and—
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The sweater's neckline, accustomed to a thicker owner, stretches below her collarbone and exposes an angry trail of purple splotches left by Joel's hungry mouth.
"I–um. It was one night. And you can't tell a soul, seriously–" Ellie stammers, her panicked eyes darting in all directions as though there's an ambush of people hiding around the corner, eavesdropping on their conversation.
"What!" Jesse's wide brown eyes nearly bulge out of his skull, his jaw hanging so low it's at risk of catching flies. "I was only joking around. Are you serious? You and Joel?"
Ellie bangs her forehead against the doorframe and mutters, "I'm so stupid," under her breath. Although staunchly non-secular, she prays the ground beneath her will miraculously open up and swallow her whole. At this moment a perfectly-timed black hole would be a blessing.
As per usual, her prayers go unanswered.
"Relax, man." Finally Ellie looks up to see Jesse holding out his hands in surrender. "I don't really care. I'm just messing with you. Get your shit, and let's go."
"You're a real dick, you know that?" Ellie snaps, shoulder-checking him as she walks by.
"Sure, sure. You know you love me," Jesse calls out, the last part muffled by the slamming of her house door.
It may not look like much, but at the end of the day her makeshift garage home is the first place that's ever been completely hers. No smelly bunkmates to quarrel with or dictatorial FEDRA officers to harass her about making the bed–a bed she's just going to sleep in and undo again anyway. She's never really seen the point.
Ellie catches her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and her appearance shocks her: In addition to the dark bruises littering her neck, it's also been scratched red by the rasp of Joel's beard on her pale skin. The sight of it probably shouldn't make her core pulse and stomach summersault like it does. It's almost intoxicating to look at–the physical manifestation of how thoroughly he desires her.
She hadn't planned on changing, already short on time, but she does switch out the sweater for a gray hoodie that offers more coverage. She pulls the collar high around her neck and puts her hair in a low bun to conceal the vicious marks before sliding into her warmest winter coat.
"Tick-tock!" Jesse yells, rapping his knuckles against the door.
"I'm coming!" Ellie responds grouchily, throwing the door open to prove it.
"I bet that's what you said last night." He leans against the doorway, grinning from ear to ear as she shoves her hands into a pair of thick woolen gloves.
"Oh my God!" Ellie exclaims, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and heading through the doorway, ducking smoothly under his arm. "What are you, twelve?"
"Whatever, man," he says, trailing after her. "You are so lucky to have a friend like me."
"Truly blessed," she snarks back sarcastically as they make their way into the heart of town, winding around the thriving greenhouse structures. While passing by Ellie squints into the nursery but can only discern the striking red of tomatoes behind the semi-opaque tarp.
"Just a heads up, you're the talk of the town this morning," Jesse warns, sending her a sympathetic look.
Ellie frowns. "Wonderful."
"What happened at the dance anyway?" He asks, side-eying her skeptically. "I've heard a lot of things, but I'd rather get it straight from the horse's mouth."
"And I take it I'm the horse in this scenario?"
Jesse tuts in amusement. "If the horseshoe fits…"
"I don't want to talk about it," Ellie states decisively. "It was an eventful night. Even before I went to Joel's place." A beat of short, heavy silence passes. She crosses her fingers, hoping he won't press her for more information.
As it turns out, she doesn't have to be worried about rehashing last night's humiliating debacle. Instead, Jesse brings up a topic she wants to discuss even less. Much less.
"Soo–you and Joel. I know you said it's only been a night, but when did things, like, start–" he begins to inquire, his freindly tone underlined with accusation. And she has a sneaking suspicion as to why.
"Don't do that," Ellie cuts him off sharply.
"Do what?" Jesse asks, his voice slathered with faux naivety.
"Act all concerned. Like I'm some sort of…" Victim.
The word doesn't make it past Ellie’s lips. Just thinking it makes her face burn with…not embarrassment, exactly. Shame, maybe? But why would she feel ashamed? They haven't done anything wrong. She's an adult. Joel's an adult. They did adult things. Very adult things. Ellie shudders at the memory of skilled fingers curling around her slim throat.
"Okay, okay. Take it easy. I won't tell anyone. Scouts honor." He lays a hand over his heart and holds a rickety gate open with the other.
"I don't know what that means," she replies, marching onto the bustling Main Street and taking a hard right down the foot-beaten path under a guise of calm collectedness she doesn't feel. No one has noticed her yet and she tries to enjoy the anonymity while she still can.
"Me either. It's something my dad says." Jesse shrugs. "Hey, let's cut through here. We can grab some breakfast." He points at the Tipsy Bison, its awning dotted by bright white lights that shine like falling stars.
Ellie scoffs, falling behind. "I'd rather run through a brick wall. Seth works the morning shift, and the way he acted when Dina kissed me last night was so out of bounds–"
Jesse stops in his tracks, prompting her to crash into him. "Wait. You kissed Dina last night?"
She stutters, gathering her bearings after the unexpected collision, "I, uh–No. She kissed me. It wasn't like–"
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "You really did have quite an eventful night."
"Shut up," Ellie mumbles, inwardly relieved he's only ribbing her and not genuinely upset by the information. Knowing she followed up the dance with a romp at Joel's probably eases his worries. Maybe it's good that he knows.
"It'll be fine,” he says, opening the door and ushering her in with a suspicious amount of urgency. "We'll keep a low profile. You're so short that no one will even notice."
"I'm not that short. My height is barely below the average–"
"Ellie!" As if the world is cracking a cosmic joke, the moment Ellie’s foot breaches the threshold of the buzzing establishment, she hears her name called out amongst the mass of townsfolk.
"Over here!" Maria waves at her from the bar, where she stands opposite of Seth. The unpleasant man’s thin lips pucker like he’s sucking on a lemon when his beady eyes land on the progressively irritated expression darkening Ellie's face.
"Do you think she saw me?" Ellie asks, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. The option of turning right back around and escaping looks more tempting–and unobtainable–with the passing of each miserable second.
"Uh, do I think Maria, who is currently yelling your name and waving you over, has seen you?" Jesse questions rhetorically, raising one of his eyebrows.
"Fuck."
He places a firm hand on her shoulder, steering her forward. "C'mon."
That's great. Fucking great. This is precisely how I wanted to spend my morning. The warmth of Joel's bed feels light-years away.
A light bulb goes off in Ellie’s head, bright and blinding. "Wait! Did you bring me here on purpose because Maria asked you to?"
"It wasn't so much an ask as an order ," he answers sheepishly.
Ellie gasps, pinching his ear. "Traitor!" No wonder he's been so cool about things this morning. He was just waiting to spring this clever little ambush on her.
"Ow!" Jesse pulls his head away from her angry fingers. "She's like my boss! I couldn't just say no."
Ellie supposes that's fair, resigning herself to her fate. Almost immediately she regrets her resignation, sensing eyes like angry insects crawling all over her body. She glances over her shoulder, but the cowards hastily look away. A crudely whispered– "Shhh. Here she comes." –has a group of gossips fall into a hushed silence as she passes.
No one calls her a slur, so that's something.
To distract herself, she stares metaphorical daggers into Jesse's back as she shadows him through the dense, early-morning crowd. Her teeth are set on edge by the time they come to a stop where Maria leans against the counter.
"Morning, Ellie," Maria greets, sounding unusually chipper. A tight smile pulls at her lips.
"Morning," Ellie grumbles, peering towards the exit, already mentally done with this conversation. The meaty smell of bacon wafts into her nose from the kitchen behind the bar, but she's too nervous to feel anything other than nauseated by the savory scent.
"Seth has something he'd like to say to you," Maria intones.
"I don't want to hear anything that bigot has to say," Ellie voices a touch too loud, ignoring the surreptitious stares from various onlookers.
"Do it for me. Please," Maria adds the last word as an afterthought, but adds it nonetheless.
Ellie and Maria don't have the most affable relationship, but there's always been a certain level of respect between the two of them. Maria has gone out of her way to make Ellie feel welcome in Jackson and, more importantly, within her own family. Ellie could choose to be a tad agreeable. Just this once. Tommy would appreciate it.
"Ugh, fine," Ellie relents. I'm so going to regret this.
"Seth!" Maria calls the old bastard over to the counter.
The action elicits Ellie to whisper an almost inaudible "Fuck me" under her breath, her shoulders tensing.
"Hey," said bastard greets. He looks like he wants to be having this conversation even less than her; his jaw clenched and mean eyes narrowed in disdain.
Awesome. Ellie acknowledges him with a careless nod, physically unable to pull up the frowning corners of her mouth.
"Look, last night…I was drinking too much," Seth starts, his hands fiddling with a brown package wrapped tightly with frayed twine.
Way to state the obvious, asshole.
"Sure," Ellie replies glibly. Maria glances at her disapprovingly, and she meets her eyes with a look of equal dissent.
Seth clenches his fists, looking down at her over his hawkish nose. "I'm trying to say I'm sorry."
"Then say it," Ellie responds, keeping her voice flat and measured. She deserves a goddamn trophy after this performance—one of those little gold statuettes shaped like naked dudes they used to give actors.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Seth bites out through an irritated scowl.
Your sincerity is touching, her inner voice drips with sarcasm, but she's able to force out a bland: "Okay."
"So," he continues and Ellie wishes he would just stop talking, "Maria tells me you're headed out on patrol."
"Yup," Ellie pops her lips, heavily enunciating the p. She glances at Jesse who's watching this shit-show from the sidelines. He smiles encouragingly and throws her a thumbs-up. Idiot.
"I made you a couple of sandwiches for the road." She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “They're steak.”
“Thank you, Seth,” Maria chimes in, snatching the sandwiches and pressing them against Ellie’s chest, forcing her to uncross her arms and grasp them.
“Yeah. Well, uh…You be safe out there," the words grind through Seth's yellow teeth like shavings from a pencil sharpener. Having to figuratively grovel at her feet seems to be putting him through the wringer. Perhaps this phony parley isn't so awful.
"Uh-huh," Ellie mutters sourly, not wanting to grant either Seth or Maria the satisfaction of watching her accept an apology that is so obviously forced and insincere.
Thankfully, Maria has decided Ellie's languished long enough and nods at the door, silently dismissing her from this horribly stilted interaction. They walk briskly in that direction, Jesse following in tow a couple of steps behind.
“I appreciated that,” Maria thanks her, and Ellie can tell she means it. It's touching, in a way, that she cares enough to stage a sham apology from Seth. Even if it is annoying and performative.
"You know me. I live to please," Ellie remarks, only a little sardonically, and throws her a small, two-finger salute.
Right before exiting the restaurant, Maria pauses with her hand on the door. Fuck, what is it now? "About Joel…" Ellie can feel her ears heat. "The guy cares about you a whole lot. Last night, I'm sure he didn't mean–"
"Maria! It's fine. I stopped by his place last night. We're good. Really good."
"Oh. Well, okay then." Maria seems taken aback by this unforeseen turn of events. Join the club. " Sorry to pry."
"Don't mention it," Ellie responds quickly, eager to exit this conversation.
After a brief farewell, Maria takes off to do whatever running a successful settlement entails. Ellie's not sure about the specifics, but it seems to be a lot of tedious bullshit. Planning crops, organizing patrols, delegating resources. And on top of all that–mending petty squabbles. It's not a position she envies in the slightest.
Jesse pulls up next to her, elbowing her gently in the side. "'Really good', huh?" He taunts.
"Fuck off, dude," she groans, shoving him away.
"Does this mean you're into guys now?" Jesus fucking Christ. It's too early for this.
"I'm into Joel. I don't plan on exploring any further than that. Ever, " Ellie asserts. Then she smirks, sensing an ample opportunity to tease him. "Why? Do you think you'd have a chance?"
"You wish." Jesse's smile wavers and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I was actually hoping you'd help me get Dina back."
Ellie can't help but laugh. The sound comes out much harsher than she intends, making Jesse wince. "Haven't you done that on your own, what, three times now? What do you need me for?"
"I just need her to know I'm serious this time. Really serious." Jesse being serious has never been an issue. Dina wanting to keep her options open, on the other hand…"C'mon, man. Please."
Ellie sighs and picks a stray piece of lint from her glove before flicking it into the snow. "Well, since you asked so nicely–I'll do my best."
"That's all I can ask for." He relaxes a bit at her agreement, shooting her a small grin of gratitude.
Once in the well-kempt stables, Ellie’s unsure of what to do with the soggy sandwiches occupying her hands. She should have tossed them to Buckley when she'd walked by the hound on Main. She doesn't want to pack them in her backpack. Throwing them on the ground is littering and would cause a trip hazard…
"Hey, Jesse! Catch."
He's turning back to look at her when she pitches the bundle at his head. It smacks him in the forehead with a THWAP. When it slides down, he fumbles around until he clutches it with both hands. "What the hell is this?"
"Bigot sandwiches," Ellie informs him. "They're all yours."
Jesse lifts the parcel to his nose and takes a big whiff. "I mean, if you insist."
"I do."
Ellie mounts Shimmer and cringes as she settles into her saddle–an action that doesn't go unnoticed by Jesse. "Sore?" He remarks, smirking wryly.
Ellie glowers at him for his very astute observation and maintains what little pride she has left by remaining silent.
Dina enters the stables, her eyes lighting up with recognition when she spots Ellie and Jesse. She sends them a cursory wave before walking off to mount her own horse.
"Did I forget to mention that things got shifted around? I'm going to relieve Tommy and Joel of their post. You're partnering with Dina," Jesse notifies her as though this information is inconsequential.
"What?"
"Put in a good word for me." Jesse winks before turning on his heel and heading off to check on the other patrolmen.
"Oh, fuck me," Ellie whispers to herself, pulling on the reins and directing Shimmer out of the stables.
Moments later, Dina trots up beside her, her lips turned up into a laid-back smile. Lips that Ellie kissed not even a full day ago. Geez, Jesse wasn't kidding. It was an eventful night. "Hey, you!" Dina regards her cheerfully as ever.
"He-" Ellie's treasonous voice decides this is the perfect time to get caught in her throat. She coughs, loosening a disgusting clump of phlegm and hacks it unceremoniously onto the ground. Whatever. It's fine. We're outside. "Hey."
"Are you okay there?" Dina asks affably, sounding more entertained than concerned.
Ellie will forever be envious of her friend's inexplicable ability to maneuver through anxiety-inducing social situations with a lightness and ease that she herself fails to possess. She's also unsure as to exactly why she's suddenly so nervous about talking to Dina about what happened.
Maybe it's because she wants to scrub the whole thing from her memory. Maybe she's worried Dina actually does have feelings for her and it will ruin one of the few friendships she's ever had. Or maybe it's that Ellie will do almost anything to avoid an uncomfortable conversation. And she's already endured one today.
Ah. That's it.
"I'm fan-fucking-tastic," Ellie declares, trying to convince Dina as well as herself.
"Alrighty," Dina seems to accept that as an admissible answer, falling into lockstep beside her. After a moment, her face turns uncharacteristically serious. "So, I wanted to talk to you about the dance–"
"It's really no big deal. Let's just forget about it."
"Okay, but I never really apologized–"
"Don't even mention it. You were drunk."
"Still–"
"Oh, hey. Jesse's about to talk. We should pay attention."
"Excuse me? Dina's eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. "Since when do you listen to Jesse?"
"Well, he is a pretty smart guy," Ellie retorts.
Dina opens her mouth, but Jesse has already started his patrol speech, preventing her from inquiring further.
"Open it up!" Jesse yells, prompting the tall wooden gate doors to part and reveal a vast expanse of pure white, the ground and surrounding mountains blanketed by heavy sheets of untouched snow.
"Okay! Settle down, children!" Jesse calls out to garner everyone's attention, his voice taking on an air of proper authority. "You all know the drill–run your routes, mark your logbooks, clear any infected you see. You run into anything you can't handle–you come straight back. Be smart about it. All right, get going!"
Dina throws her a quick half-smile and clicks her cheek, sending Japan cantering through the gate. Ellie sighs, tugging on Shimmer's reins and following suit. It's going to be a long morning.
Dappled light from the sunrise bleeds through the fractured canopy of clouds and reflects off of the snow, kissing her freckled cheeks. She closes her eyes and imagines it's the warmth of Joel's full lips kissing her instead. An ache of impatient eagerness blossoms behind her sternum as she thinks about Joel's devine promise of tonight.