you're the most sentimental brute i've ever known. ( from tommy to tess )
it's all picked through, empty shelves with the beginnings of overgrowth. it's a rich green in the fading light, their silhouettes blocking out what they stand before. it was a gift shop, would of been full of overpriced snacks from locals and tacky t-shirts. there's a heavy sigh, but she still gives a nod toward the backroom. “ might be somethin' worth checking out. ” he takes her word and walks with it.
her boots crunch under glass, scratch into dirty floors. she rounds the corner, lips pressing at barren shelves. she lifts the bottom one to see if any product had fallen beneath, to her luck she finds some skittles, well expired and even a pack of gum. she pockets them for now. she'd never had the taste for sugar like that, but her stomach begs for anything these days.
on the next isle there's a display, license plate keychains scattered on the floor. they're dust covered, but they catch her eye. she crouches and searches through the names and states. they're currently boarding @lastsurviving's home, the humidity dying with sunlight. the corner of her lips pull in something brief when she finds his name engraved in metal. it's faded blue, a starry sky with a cowboy centered. she plucks it from the mess and stands again, lets it dangle from finger tips as she searches on. she swallows hard to hide the ache for home.
she finds nothing else and opts to wait outside, her back pressed to the door for him to finish up. he comes back just as defeated, just a pack of clean socks that they could split between the three of them. “ i guess it's better than nothing. ” their haul would have to make do for now.
her arm extends out, an offering of the keychain. a piece of home for him to carry. “ here. ” her tone is careful, quiet. “ thought you'd might like this. ” she drops it in his hand then, all avoiding eyes. the topic of home, of what was is hardly ever mentioned between them. they only talk about the now, about surviving. sometimes she gets tired of it.
“ you're the most sentimental brute i've ever known. ” his voice sings, the softest she'd ever heard. it doesn't match the same tone of joel's, far too rough and as if it'd been built for surviving. she brushes it off with a wave of her hand. “ we should get goin' before it's too late. ”