Synopsis: Flowers aren’t the only things that bloom, something else deeper inside you planted by your relationship with Joel as begun to sprout. And neither of you know how to handle it.
tags: pregnant reader, agegap(joel is 58, reader is 40), jackson joel, tommy cameo, stubborn reader, stubborn joel, you can imagine it as game joel or hbo joel, not proofread,mentions of vomit(morning sickness),hardheaded reader, insistent joel, Ellie & tommy mention, reader and joel are not in a relationship(yet), angst
masterlist
It’s been exactly a week since you told Joel about your pregnancy. You hadn’t really made much of an effort to hangout with him or talk with him like you agreed to last week. In truth, you’d somewhat been avoiding him. You don’t know why, you can avoid him all you want but this baby is still happening so it doesn’t really change anything.
Now, it’s Friday. You can’t say it doesn’t feel weird to be anticipating Joel coming over like he usually does on Fridays just to get your fill of each other. You try to distract yourself by reading on the couch.
It doesn’t last very long though, around seven PM, theres a knock on your door. Three knocks to be exact. You get up slow and confused but shuffle to the door anyway before opening it. You gulp when you see him standing there, he’s got a basket in his hand and his blue button up shirt tucked into his jeans. You give him a quick look up and down before be diverts your attention elsewhere.
“Hey. You busy?” he straightens out his back, standing tall at the sight of you and you shake your head as you step back to let him in.
"Is something wrong?" you questioned and closed the door.
"No, nothing like that jus uh...wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me or somethin'?" he offered, clearing his throat to rid himself of the awkwardness that struck him the moment he walked up your steps.
"Oh...sure," you murmured, glancing at the basket he held in his hand.
You weren't exactly dressed for the occasion, you had on a thin black tank top and grey shorts, doing everything you can to combat the heat of the summer. He walks in and you shut the door after him, it's not his first time here so he has a decent idea of where things are. He makes his way to the dining room table and you join him, suddenly more anxious than you've ever been around him. Though you don't realize it, he's just as nervous as you are if not more.
The two of you had never really done anything like this before and eating dinner across from each other on long patrols didn't count nor did it compare to this. Him being in your home, setting up the table, pulling food out of the basket and watching you like a hawk was far more intimate. You sit down and glance at the food he'd brought over, You found a beef stew with various vegetables and a side of rice, he'd also packed a pitcher of ice cold water for some reason even though you had your own functioning sink. You didn't voice your confusion, just sat down and let him plate your food.
For whatever reason, you were waiting for him to speak first. It's not like you'd never had a conversation before but something about this was just different.
"You uh...eatin' well?" he questions, breaking the ice between you two.
"Yeah," you murmured, though it was a lie.
All week everything you'd been eating just came right back up. It wasn't even morning sickness, it happened at any hour of the day and the only thing that didn't make you hurl was anything sweet. As much as you'd like to eat sweets all day, you needed to watch your sugar when you were pregnant.
"Look like you lost some weight," he mentions, sitting down and sliding the plate over to you.
"I didn't," you denied, another pointless lie because it was obvious.
But you didn't think Joel cared enough to notice that you'd lost a few pounds, it wasn't a lot given it had only been a week but he knew. He saw you a lot more than you thought he did. He just grunts at your response while picking up the fork and beginning to eat.
"You been avoidin' me," he points out, talking slowly with a little more southern accent to his words.
You don't freeze up but you hesistate with the fork for half a second and Joel notices it but he waits for you to say something first. You continue eating, slow, hoping that this time you'll get lucky and not have to rush to the bathroom because the stew is actually pretty good.
"I ain' been good at comin' to see you either but I—"
"You don't have to pretend like I mean more to you than what I do, Joel," you interrupted without even looking up from the bowl.
He's the one who freezes up at that, you continue eating like you hadn't cut him off with a sharp remark. He sits there, fork still in hand and he blinks at you like you've just spoken another language. There's a tension only he can feel, like a rubber band being pulled thin, just ready to snap.
"Excuse me?"
"I just mean that our relationship was nothing more than a convenient fuck, you don't have to pretend like it wasn't just because you feel bad for me or like you hold responsibility for me now that I'm knocked up," you explained and his jaw ticks with the furrow of his brows.
"I do hold responsibility, I'm the one who got you pregnant ain' I?" he scoffs at you. "And I don't feel bad for you—that's not why I'm doin' this. I'm doin' this because it's right," he clarifies, looking right at you meanwhile you haven't looked at him once.
"Right," you scoff breathlessly before taking another mouthful of food.
The mouthful reaches at the same time you feel yout gut curling into knots. You freeze up, trying to fight the urge to run to the bathroom but it's no use. Without saying anything, you jerk up from your seat and rush to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door after yourself before the contents of your stomach are spilled into the toliet. It doesn't take Joel long to come to the door either, he's twisting the doorknob just to find that it's locked. You hear him groan before asking if you're alright, still trying to get the door open.
When you're all done, you rinse your mouth out at the sink and take a few minutes to catch your breath. You're leaned over the counter, sighing loudly because all you want is to able to enjoy your meal. When you're done and ready to face the man you know is waiting outside the door, you stand up straight and try to pretend like you're not absolutely winded. You open the door and there he is, standing in the doorway with concern written all over his facw. You try sliding past him but he grabs your arm to stop you.
"How long?" is all he says, letting you figure out the specifics.
"Since I found out," you muttered, looking him up and down.
"I asked you if you'd come to me if you needed anything and you said you would. Why didn't you tell me about this?" he questions, his hand still firm around your arm.
"What the hell are you going to be able to do about it? I'm the one throwing up, not you...didn't seem like something I should tell you about," you snapped, snatching your arm away from him.
"But you lied. You have lost weight because you've been throwin' everythin' up. You don't think I need to know about that?" he cocks his head to the side a little and you step closer to him.
"Again. What the hell can you do about my nausea, Joel?" you refuted and you watched his jaw clench but his gaze remained unwavering.
Without arguing further, he turns from you quickly. You watch him stride towards the dining room before you hear the clattering of things being thrown into the basket. You don't move from your spot but after a few minutes you just see him storming out with his basket firm in his grip. Your front door slams shut after that.
Three full day's have passed since you sent Joel storming out of your house. You haven't seen him around town but you weren't looking for him either. Every so often though, while you were out, you caught Tommy looking at you. You wouldn't be surprised if he knew already but he never came up to you about so you weren't sure what to think.
You were working in the bakery, you had access to some sweet breads so whenever you were feeling sick you just had a piece. It was nearing the end of your shift, you were cleaning up the bakery and working on the typical closing duties. That meant you were sweep out front, the closed sign was flipped around and the lights had been dimmed. As you were cleaning, you heard the entrance door bell clink, you turned your attention over to the front door and saw none other than Joel walking in.
His jacket was dirtied with dried blood though based off how he was walking it was clear it wasn't his. His denim jeans were a little torn on the side of his thighs and his shirt was tight across his chest. He looked tired but not tired enough to be bothered by his tiredness.
"We're closed," you informed and he didn't even bother addressing that given that the both of you knew that's not what he was here for.
When he's close enough to you, an arms length away he pulls something out of his backpack. You watch him search for it before pulling out a white pill bottle that rattles loudly with the sound of it being completely full. He hands it to you, making sure you can see the label which address the concern for nausea.
"That's why you should tell me...because when I can do somethin' about it, I will." he clarifies, tapping on the pill bottle in your hand.
He stands in front of you with his rifle still slung over his shoulder, even though thats against protcal. He left to find these for you for three days straight and when he came back he came straight to you. You'd been an asshole to him for no reason, you really didn't know why you'd gotten so snappy with him but you did. In all honesty, you just weren't used to this. Sure, you thought of having a family one day but every birthday that passed childless the idea of it kind of just slipped your mind.
This was all new to you and having a child with a man you weren't even with nor expecting to get pregnant from kind of threw you for a loop. You're both standing there looking at each other, you've got your cream colored apron tied on comfortable and he's just there, towering over you like a dark cloud but he's anything but. Especially when it comes to you, but you don't know that part yet.
"Thank you," you said meekly, a little embarssed at your behavior. "Sweet um...usually help me with the nausea so if you have any, I'd take those too...don't go out of your way or anything though," you added, clearing your throat to ease the tension in your bones.
"Think Ellie's left some candy 'a hers back at mine so yeah...I'll bring it over whenever you're free," he nods slowly, his eyes never breaking from yours. "You work tomorrow?" he questions, readjusting how he stands.
"Yeah, from six in the morning until five." you answered and he just nodded slowly again.
"I'll bring it after then...you finishing up here?"
"Mhm, you dont have to wait on me or anything. I know you're still trying to figure out how to tell people about our situation," you assured him and he managed to pull his lips into half a grin before nodding again.
"Alright then. Goodnight," he murmured and you gave him a weak smile before watching him walk off and out the door.
You tucked the pill bottle into the pocket of your apron and went right back to cleaning and finishing closing up.
JOEL
It was only four in the afternoon but he couldn't fight the urge to see how you were doing. So on his way over to the front gate of Jackson, he stopped by the bakery you worked at only to find that you weren't at the front counter like he expected. There was some other woman there, tall with long black her down to her back. his brows furrowed but he assumed you might be in the back so he walked up to the front counter anyway. He asked the woman there if you were in the back and she shook her head.
"She didn't come in from this morning so Martha asked me to cover her shift," she explained at that made Joel stiffen.
"Whaddya mean? She ain' been here all day?" Joel asks for clarification and she shook her head.
"You send anybody to go find her? Where is she?!” He scans in area in search of you only to find a few customers at their tables.
"No, we didn't and I don't know," the woman shrugged and Joel scoffed at that before whipping himself around and storming right on out of there.
The only place he though you'd be was home so he went there first, just to knock heavily on your door three times in a row like usual. You didn't answer but he saw the lights on and he heard some ruffling inside. He called out your name and heard nothing in response. Fear had i's hold on him the same way doubt did, his wits were about him like usual so he lifted up your doormat just to find a spare key there like he knew he would.
He unlocked the door without hesitation, scanning the room immedietly as he entered. He didn't see you around but heard you wrenching upstairs, to which he rushed up the steps without thinking twice. In the midst of your wretching he heard you sobbing too, which he'd never heard before.
The bathroom door was half open so he let himself in, even if it wasn't he would have done the same. You were in front of the toliet with tears streaming down your face from the pain of it all. He was quick to crouch down to your level, moving the stray hairs that stuck to the sweat on your forehead out of the way since your hair had already been moved out of your face.
"You didn't take the medicine??" he questioned urgently and you shook your head.
"Couldn't. Woke up doing this...been here all day," you groaned, sniffling and wiping your face as if it made any difference.
"Shit..." he whispers before rembering what's in his pocket, he pulls out a few pieces of candy, one of which happen to be a mint and you take it as quick as a cat.
He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, lifting you up off the floor as he carries you off to your bedroom. That was one room he'd been more than familar with in your home. he sets you down on the bed without fear you'll hurl again given the candy youre currently sucking on. You sigh softly at the feeling of the soft cushion underneath you, he stands there with his hands on his hips as he looks at you.
"Better?" he questions and you're quick to nod.
"Thank you..." you mumbled before sliding yourself under your covers.
"Course," he gruffs, shifting his stance again.
"You want some water?" he offers and you nod in agreement slowly.
He leaves the room and heads down to your kitchen to get you a tall glass of water. When he brings it back to you he sees you blinking slow, taking slow breaths as you slightly shiver beneath the covers even in this heat. He hands you the water and without thinking twice places the back of his hand against your forehead.
“You’re freezin’ when it’s hot as hell out,” he realizes out as you drink the water.
He slides his hands to his hips, trying to figure out what to do. On your bedside is the pill bottle which he picks up and takes one out for you, you can see his mind working as he hands it off to you and watched you swallow it down with water.
“If ya throw up again or your fever doesn’t go down, I’ll take you to the doctor. Alright?” He glances back and finds a chair in the corner of your room that he takes a seat in.
YOU
You fight your first instinct to protest and just nod your head while sucking on the candy. His knees slightly crack when he sits down with half a heavy sigh, he rocks in the chair a little while watching you slowly find yourself dozing off to sleep.
You sleep light but this evening you find yourself sleeping heavy. You’re bundled up in the sheets and in your sleep Joel adds on a few more blankets, noticing you still shivering every so often.
A few hours pass before you’re up again, it’s dark out now and Joel is still here. You look over and see him in the chair, the lamp turned on as he looks out the window. You groan as you sit yourself up, feeling too weak to do more movement.Joel’s up on his feet in an instant, raising the back of his hand to your forehead without warning.
“Y’gotta thermometer?” He questioned with the furrowing of his brows and you nodded.
You pointed to your bedside table and he opened the drawer and popped it in your mouth. You waited until it beeped before trying to read the temperature but he beat you to it.
“The infirmary will still be open. Come on,” he insisted, moving the blankets off you.
“People will see,” you mumbled as he reached out to help you up.
“What?” He remarks as he stands you up.
“People will see us together,” you explained and his eyes darted up to yours.
“ ‘m not embarrassed by you…’ts not why I haven’t told anyone about our situation. If they see, they see,” he shrugged while helping you walk around your bed.
“What about Ellie?” You paused when he let go of you to grab your coat.
He doesn’t reply, just keeps guiding you out of the bedroom with his hand firmly on your lower back and the other holding your arm. You feel weak, making it hard to move but you do so anyway. The journey to the infirmary is a short one, only taking you about ten minutes just because you're so weak. When you get inside, Joel speaks first, explaining the situation without thinking twice. You're honestly surprised he wasn't whispering it, you were under the impression he really didn't want anyone knowing you were pregnant.
You still thought that, you just brushed this off as him doing the right thing and letting your pain take priority. You're led off to room down the hall, following a nurse while holding onto Joel's arm to keep you steady. Once you're inside, the nurse tells you it'll just be a few minutes before Dr.Jane can see you.
"Easy," Joel murmurs as he helps you onto the bed, it's a bit deflated and squeaky but you ignore it.
He keeps his hands on you for a few seconds longer before snatching them away awkwardly. He grunts slightly as he takes a seat, his knees popping in the process. You avoid looking at him and he does the same, you don’t speak either, not until the doctor comes in.
“So, what brings you in tonight?” Dr. Jane greets as she walks in.
“I can’t keep anything I eat down and I have a fever,” you murmured, you’re still kind of in a strange headspace and miss the comforts of your bed.
“Had a temperature of 101,” Joel comments and Dr.Jane nods and picks up her clipboard.
“Do you have any preexisting conditions I should know about?” She wonders, still writing on her clip board as she speaks.
“I’m pregnant,” you informed and she stills, she lifts her head and looks between the two of you before speaking.
“And…this is the father?” She questions, looking at Joel before you nod in response.
“Do you know how far along you are?”
“Um…I’ve been late for two months so eight or nine weeks, I guess?” You answered and she nodded slower this time.
“Okay well, I am concerned because you’re pregnant but for now, unless your fever gets above 102, I want you to keep hydrated and remain on bedrest. As for your nausea—“
“He got me some medicine for it but I just can’t time it right. I’m usually already sick before I can even take the medicine…sweet things never make me sick though. I was just concerned about my sugar intake…I read that can be bad for labor,” you expressed and she glanced over at Joel again.
“You’re right, your sugar intake is important to watch but eating in general is also important, especially in your first trimester. For now, I want you to stick to sweets, keep some by your bed so when you first wake up you’re able to take the pills and then we’ll go from there,” she informed and her lack of panic made you feel a bit better.
She tells you that once you get some rest, fluids and food that will give you at least some bit of energy, your body will be able to fight off the fever sooner than later. She does warn you(and Joel) that if the fever goes above 102 to come back immediately.
And with that, you’re sent off back home and Joel’s walking you back. When you reach your front door, you turn around and face him.
“Are you coming in?” You questioned when he was closer to the door than you realized.
“Was gonna,” he says awkwardly. “Jus’ to keep an eye on your temperature…is all,” he clarifies and even though you don’t get him, not even a little, you turn back around and let him in.
First you get to the kitchen and grab yourself some water and a few piees of candy you had, just hard candy. You get yourself back upstairs, Joel trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You climb into bed and he returns to his spot in the chair, you shiver from the chills you’ve been getting but try your best to fall asleep. You're no stranger to this kind of arrangement, being out on patrol with Joel often meant you were used to sleeping like this.
You're able to find rest before the sun comes shining through, waking you up. You stir for a minute before sitting up, already reaching for the candy, the strawberry flavor settled well with you. You reached for the water on your bedside to and grabbed the pills before taking them and washing it down with the water.
When you were done you looked over and saw that Joel was absent, in his place laid a note. After you were concious enough to stand, you got up and picked up the note.
Your fever broke in the middle of the night. Didn't want to overstay but if you're up for it come to Tommy's for breakfast after you've taken your pills.
You set the note down on your bedside table, you figure it's only appropriate you make some kind of effort here. A part of you thinks he's invited you because he's going to make the announcement that at fifty eight years old, theres going to be a baby added to the household. You imagine the look on Ellie's face, if she's there at all which you think she will be. A big part of you thinks the worst, you think everyone is just going to be very confused and more upset than happy. Which you can't really blame them for.
You walk over to your closet to dress for breakfast, you can tell just from how warm your room is that it's hot out. With your exhaution kicking in, the last thing you need is to overheat from your clothes so you settle on a dress you picked up a little while ago. It was a pale yellow, square neckline with two thick straps and a little flowy on the bottom. You picked it up for the bakery, the owner often had activities and events hosted to get the community all together and wearing something other than jeans seemed appropriate.
You showered, brushed your teeth and washed your face before getting dressed. Out of instinct you almost made yourself breakfast before remembering where you were headed. You felt a lot better with your fever gone but you were still tired, that seemed to be the new regular these days though so you made do. You brewed yourself some coffee and kept it in your thermos that you drank from on your way to Tommy and Maria's.
You figured one cup of coffee wouldn't hurt but you didn't know that much about how much caffine you could have. You meant to go look for some pregnancy books on your next patrol but you're not exactly sure if that would be happening. You wave to a couple of folks you pass by, familiar faces from the bakery. When you reach Tommy and Maria's, you let yourself in through the gate and up the steps to their home where the door is already a little cracked open.
Before you can even knock to make your prescence known, the door swings open and Maria is there to greet you with a smile on her face.
"I'm glad you could make it," she greeted. "Come in, come in," she ushers, stepping out of the way to let you in.
Inside you find Tommy and Joel sitting on the couch talking but that's it. There's no Ellie or anyone else, instead you think he intends to tell people one at a time which is a little strange. Obviously this means Tommy hasn't told Maria yet, which you appreciate but you don't think Joel woul have blamed him if he'd spilled the beans. Maria is his wife after all.
Maria leads you to the table and finally, the sight of food isn't making your stomach churn. You take in the smell of what was cooked between the both of them from the pancakes, the bacon, the eggs and toast and feel like a woman starved. You sit down and Maria sits across from you, less than a minute later the boys join and Joel sits himself next to you.
You share a glance for half a second, just to acknowledge each other before Tommy goes obnoxiously insisting that everyone "dig in". You've got your thermos next to your plate, you're scooping up breakfast potatoes and a pancake, you decide to start off small despite how hungry you feel. The last thing you need is to get sick in someone else's home after eating their food. You cut your pancake up and take sips from your thermos while Tommy goes on and on about some story from when he and Joel were kids.
In the middle of his story, Joel sniffs the air and turns his head to your thermos. Without saying anything he reaches for it, taking it out of your hand and sips it.
"Hey?!" you exclaimed, wondering what the hell that was about.
"You shouldn't be drinking coffee," he murmurs, keeping the thermos on his side rather than returning it to you.
"it's just a little—"
"I know how you drink your coffee, 'member? This ain' got a lick of milk in it, 'ts too much," he refutes, refusing to give you back your thermos even when you reach for it.
Tommy can't help but share a chuckle at the sight of you two and Maria tries to stiffle her own laughter. You find none of it funny, you were tired and the coffee as helping. If anyone should understand that it was Joel. Something dawned upon you after you gave up trying to get your thermos back, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum made you stop. Maria hadn't asked why you shouldn't be drinking coffee which only made sense if she already knew you were pregnant.
"Why am I here, Joel?" you huffed abruptly.
The laughing from across the table ceases and Joel's brows pull together leaving a crease in his forehead. You're sitting there staring at each other until one of you decide to speak first.
"If Maria already knows I'm pregnant, why am I here?" you clarified, his stare remains settled on you but it's piercing right through you just the same.
"For breakfast." he answers flatly, he squints a little like he's trying to figure you out.
"Uh...Joel," Tommy coughs to interrupt. "Think you could look at somethin' upstairs f'me?" Tommy questions at the snap of both your heads turning to him.
He doesn't reply, he simplys get out of his chair while following Tommy upstairs. You snatch your thermos back when Joel leaves, knowing that theres nothing upstairs for them to be looking at. When you look across the table you see Maria slightly frowning at you.
"What's going on with you two?" she sighs, the sight of you and Joel like that was not one she'd ever seen before.
"Can I use your bathroom?" you asked, ignoring her intial question.
You're afraid if you start talking about it, how you actually feel about all this change, people will look at you differently. You're just not sure how you're supposed to feel but what you do know is that you're fucking terrified and you don't know how to express your fears.
"Of course..." she mumbles, her brows curling up with pity as she looks at you.
You've been here enough to know where the bathroom is, you put your chair back and walk up the steps with the intention of getting some water on your face to calm down. But when you pass by a room to get to the bathroom, you can't help but overhear Tommy and Joel.
"What's the problem? I don't get why you're not happier—"
"I'm too fuckin' old for this, Tommy. By the time the kid's eighteen I'll be seventy-six," Joel scoffs, his hands firm on his hips as he stands.
You step forwward quietly, peeking through the crack in the door.
"Ain' safe and it won't ever be...why should I be over the moon about bringin' a kid into this knowin' what happened to...Sarah." he chokes up a little saying her name again. "Only diffrence this time is I'll probably be dead 'fore some infected can get to the kid. Even then, I still won't be able to protect my kid...so no, Tommy...I'm not happy as can be about this," he snaps to the point where his voice thunders louder than he probably meant for it to.
You feel your heart sink at the words that leave his mouth. Your chest tightens and you suddenly feel the urge to flee with the way goosebumps sprout on your arms. Instead of going in there and saying something, anything at all, you turn and dash back down the stairs. The wood betrays you, creaking loudly when you turn away from the door.
You didn't ask him to stay. In fact you did the opposite, you told him you had no problem raising this baby alone and yet he was talking to Tommy like you hadn't given him an out. What hurt you wasn't what he said, it was that he was right. This world wasn't safe and it never would but yet here you are bringing an innocent child into it. You can help but feel like you're giving your baby to the wolves or signing their death certifcate just by having them.
Maria calls out your name when she see's you making an escape to the door but you don't reply. Soon after you hear footsteps following fast, knowing it's Joel and Tommy. You don't let them catch up, you shut the front door after yourself as you rush out of the house with your heart aching in your chest and tears forming in your eyes.
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chapter one of like a bellflower, a Joel Miller x Fem!Oc fanfiction.
warnings: violence, death, blood, the word 'rape', general apocalyptic angst things yk
words: 2,6k
Story taglist
1. A stoic rescue
✿✿✿
“If we don’t find some more fucking ammo soon I swear i’m going to kill someone,” Kade grumbled as we all walked along a broad gravelly road. He bit into the last of his dried meat with anger, ripping the flesh apart aggressively with his teeth. His arm nearly hit me as it swung back. I always stayed behind the four of them. Kade, Ryan, Sarah and Cole. When they found me, and agreed to pick me up along with them I thought I could find solidarity in Sarah. A girl. Or a woman I should say, because she is a lot more woman than me.
Her shoulders were as broad as the mens, her figure sturdy and hardened like her face. No solidarity was to be found in those eyes. She met me like the men did; looking down at me with clenched jaws, demanding I fix us all food and making mean jokes when I try to brush and fix my hair.
“That ain’t going to fix nothing sweetheart- how about a trip to the salon instead? It’ll be on me,” Kade would say with a nasty grin and they would all belt out laughter while they tended to their guns like I tend to my hair, with the same kind of care. The kind you should never use on weapons.
“But break my heart, for I must hold my tongue,” I always quote, biting my tongue until metal melts in my mouth.
“You have to calm down, we’re almost at the next town. If there isn’t any ammo, we’ll butcher someone that has some.” Cole replies, walking with fast, tough steps. They were always so hard, so violent. I watched intensely as my feet kicked the gravel. My gun didn’t have a lot of ammo left either but I would rather not have to hurt someone to get more. I’d run if I had to, but I really didn’t.
The rest of the walk was silent, until old suburban houses started appearing. No one spoke to me. Wordlessly everyone divided to ransack the houses. Cole and Kade went together, so did Ryan and Sarah. Sarah, a dainty, feminine name for a woman with cold, rejecting eyes. No solace. I walked on my own, shoulders slumping.
The house was a pale blue, the door was off the hinges completely, and I stepped over the rotten wood. Dust swirled in the beams of light that were pushing through barred windows. Someone had stayed here for a while, it looked like. Empty cans of food were piled on the dirty kitchen tiles. When I glanced back at the broken down door, I noticed the beating it had taken. The blood stains that the wood had absorbed. Scratch marks. I didn’t want to think of what had happened here, and instead I filtered through the flashes of sunlight, the warmth pulsing on my cheek. The air smelled like rotten wood too, as well as flowers. They bloomed in the corners of the walls, through broken tapestry they unfolded like nothing had ever bothered them. Like the whole world wasn’t dying. Untouched by the destruction, pretty and blooming. I wished to be like the flower.
There was no ammo, but in the back cabinets I found old cans of beans that must’ve been forgotten in whatever hurry had happened here. Between the wooden beams that barred the window I saw the others gathering in the middle of the road. Soldiers, they looked like. Machines. They made my skin crawl and every soft thing inside me hardened. I solidified, when everything I fought for everyday was to be soft. Free, fresh and blooming like a flower. A war between me and the world to preserve the delicate human I was, but I felt like throwing it all up when Kade looked at me. He made me feel like he wanted to rape me. His eyes were wide like a drug addict, and his stare a direct look into the most damaged soul I had ever met in my life. I had no clue what his story was and I was terrified to find out. He wanted to hurt the world like it had hurt him and I didn’t want to be here to see it but I had nowhere else to go.
They talked aggressively to each other, heads bent close together even though there probably wasn't anyone around for miles. I still never got used to seeing people standing in the middle of the roads. The cars were supposed to be there. And now all the cars were flipped upside down and stripped for parts. Sarah crushed a spiring dandelion under her foot. Her black, greasy hair flipped around her head when she talked. The day was beautiful but the people were not.
We decided to camp there, in the house I found. I found a broken family photo in a bedroom upstairs. I was frozen, sitting on a four poster bed with a family full of strangers in my hand. This room was a memory in time. A photo in itself. If not for the barricaded window, where the sunlight slowly turned red, you wouldn’t be able to tell that life had died everywhere around it. So I stayed there all night. I went downstairs silently, like a child who’d awoken from a nightmare. But there were no parents downstairs, and I crept silently around them to grab a can of beans. Kades big hand squeezed my fragile wrist harshly and the can dropped from my hand. “You’re not taking all of that,” he spoke harshly before opening the can and pouring almost all of the content into an empty one. The rest he gave to me. “Sit down,” he stroked my wrist where he’d hurt me and I coiled away, sitting down reluctantly. I never joined their talk. Ryan was the nicest of them all, though the difference in their behaviors were minimal. They had been just them for so long that Sarah was Ryan and Ryan was Cole and all of them were Kade. Not one authentic trait that wasn’t given to them by the apocalypse. None of their own selves left from before. I pitied it, sort of. When they dozed off in their sleeping bags I snuck back up and crawled under the cold comforter in the bedroom with the photo on the pillow next to me. I tried to imagine living here. With my family, when they were still here. Sleeping next to my parents in their bed even though i probably was a bit too old for it. We wouldn’t tell anyone. Tomorrow we’d make breakfast together, maybe?
Those thoughts put me to sleep.
Bang. I woke with such a violent start that my hand flung the photo to the carpeted floor. It was already broken, but now the glass had fallen out of the frame in pieces completely. I had ruined the last memory of this family. Another bang. It was gunshots and the crashes that followed rumbled the old flooring beneath me. Impulsively I ripped the photo from the frame and stuck it in my pocket. I didn’t know how to move. We had never been in this situation. I had never been apart from the group when we were attacked. They were always there and always merciless. I had to fend for myself still, because they prioritized each other over me anytime. Sometimes it was as if they would purposefully let me fight on my own despite them being fully capable of helping me. I swung my backpack on, in case I had to run again. My hands trembled and the gun nearly slipped from my grasp. I creaked open the bedroom door, right at the top of the stairs. “Fucking get him!” I heard Ryan yell. More crashes, grunts. The stairs creaked as I took a step but another noise covered it. Blood sprayed on the wall next to the broken front door. Greasy black hair, fell with a thud to the ground. Blood started to pool around Sarah’s head, which was all of her I could see from this angle. I breathed in. It smelled like being on summer camp. Sunlight, fresh air but a metallic, wooden scent interfered with the peaceful memory. Kane roared and I heard him surge towards whoever the perpetrator was. I closed my eyes harshly until it hurt, then I opened them and ran down the stairs as the spots faded away from my sight. My gun was stretched in front of me. Everything after that happened so fast I barely caught it. An elbow to Ryan's face who stumbled backwards. To clean shots through Cole's stomach. Bang, bang, thud. Bile rose in my throat. My gun was still in front of me. I didn’t move. I didn’t know what I felt.
A loud grunt, a missed shot but a punch to the gut from Kade to the stranger. He was hardened too, but not in the cold, menacing way of the others. He looked human, I thought, right before he twisted Kades arm around in a nasty crack, pushing his back into the man's chest before firing a bullet right through his temples. Kade looked at me then, and for the first and only time I saw something else in his eyes. He looked scared. Like a little boy who’d been told off. Who’d been left alone and scolded and shown no love, who now pleaded for it for the last time ever. And then my eyes turned sympathetic. I did everything I could to give him that last piece of whatever feeling closest to affection I had for him and a peace fell over his eyes right as the bullet tore through him. My mouth was sour, and I leaned down, throwing up right next to Sarah’s body.
The stranger let Kade fall to his knees, discarded him and stalked towards me with a reaction time that seemed inhuman. I expected the harsh, calloused hands of a man piercing my skin. Like Kade’s used to. I dropped the gun. It landed in my own puke. The man stopped between me and the mess. We both looked down. Then we looked up. My eyes were filled with hot, stingy tears from throwing up. Maybe fear. He breathed harshly, quickly and his nostrils flared. His eyes were dark as he looked demandingly underneath his furrowed brows. He had a handsome face, salt and pepper scruff, a hooked nose and sloped lips. But he also was hardened from this world.
His shoulders fell, quickly aware that I probably wasn’t the biggest threat around. That irritated me, and I squared up, fisting my hands. “Get away or I'll punch you.” I said. There was volume in my voice that I didn't expect. He didn’t move, but looked down on my petty gun again. Then he turned around, and started searching the bodies of my old crew. He took their guns, searched them. I stood still. I was shaking like a leaf and tears rolled down my cheeks now silently. I wasn’t sad for these people. I was sad for the last time this happened. When it was the people I cared for that lay still while I stood up. I cried for them, tightly fisting the photo of the family I found in my pocket. The man stopped, and looked at me. “I’ll leave some stuff for you,” he said. His voice was gruff. And it hit me like bricks, so hard I nearly folded into two again. I was going to be left alone. The man was looking done, about to leave again. Then there would be silence, like when snow falls. Nothing.
“Take me with you,” I said, too desperate for my liking but suddenly he felt like the last thing I had in the world even though I didn't even know his name.
“No,” he said, and walked out the backdoor without looking back. I wiped my gun off in Sarah’s shirt, with a little regret but not so much that i felt guilty and followed the man out. He had a horse that was tied to a tree.
“You have to.” i stated, my breathing quick and shallow. I would not let him leave.
“I don’t, actually.”
Did he not feel any remorse? What if that was my family he just killed, and then left me for myself. Not even so merciful as to put me in the grave with them? But they weren’t my family and I would not go with them into death, but this man didn’t know.
“You just killed everything around me.” It wasn’t the first time that had happened and I felt like I was grasping at water, trying to hold it in my hand. I heaved in a gasp of shock and sorrow and it was what finally made him look at me. His brows furrowed even more, if possible. His face softened, and I swore I saw guilt flash across his still-new features. He was listening.
“I’m silent. You won’t even know i’m here. And as soon, I promise, as soon as we come across somewhere else I can stay, I'll leave. But you owe me a ride.” I wasn’t used to selling myself, to making me sound like someone you’d want along on your travels and even though my face heated with embarrassment and the words I spoke, it was all the hope I had not to curl up in that four poster bed until I withered into nothing.
He said nothing for a while, looking somewhere behind me in thought. I mustered my most desperate eyes. I tried baring my soul through them for him to see that I needed this. He already seemed ways better than any of the four people that had taken me upon since the tragic incident.
“As soon as we find something.. livable, you’re gone.” he grumbled. The relief made my knees weak, air seeped out of me uncontrollably and I had to hold onto the tree so as to not fall in on myself.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whispered, tasting tears on my lips that I wiped profusely. I was not to be a burden to this man before I had even gotten onto his horse.
“Just follow me and stay quiet,” he said, pulling the horse along with him. We walked, and I didn't look back. The blue house I swore to leave forever behind me. The photo I held onto. The sun was only just rising, cold and bright as it stretched over the abandoned houses. We walked in the middle of the road, on each side of the horse. I felt warmth on my skin, on my hair and I combed it down with my fingers and braided it down my back. And no one laughed, or said anything. I realized this might have been my rescue as I looked up at the pine trees ahead, instead of down at the gravel. I looked anywhere I liked and made my hair look nice and I stroked the now curled up photo with my thumb, looking over at the man.
“What's your name?”
I had already broken one of three rules: stay silent, follow me, leave me alone as soon as possible.
He sighed, “you’re not very good at this.”
Even his scolding, and his glare was everything Kades wasn’t. There was no malice, no intention to hurt. I didn’t feel fear in my gut.
“I’m Belle. Like the princess” I peaked over the horse’s moving body.
“Like bellflowers,” he said, glancing at me for barely a second. Like a bellflower, blooming, delicate and untouched by the world. I wish it was so.
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— SUMMARY: Joel Miller has been your best friend for four years, and your trust in him has always been unshakable. But one night, after a heated argument, everything changes in an instant. In the blink of an eye, you're in a place you never thought you'd be: naked, beneath him, with his eyes burning into you as if there's no tomorrow. And when you wake up the next morning, it hits you all at once, reality sinking in. Nothing will ever be the same.
— Chapter summary: Life seems to smooth out with Travis, but an encounter with another Miller stirs your feelings again.
Joel comes home at night, and a box waits for him at the kitchen. WC: 4.3k
A/N: Re-edited chapter (16/03/26). Minor changes (grammar, a few details, nothing else).
October 17th. The first thing you discovered was a black sweatshirt, crumpled and forgotten, stuffed in the back of your closet among old clothes and memories. You tossed it into the washing machine and set off to search your house for more of Joel’s things. And it didn’t take long to find more remnants of him: an old Pearl Jam T-shirt, a white mug bearing his initial that you’d pilfered a few months prior, a couple of CDs with his oh so eclectic taste in music, a well worn paperback novel, and a screwdriver, the very tool you had used to assemble the small piece of furniture for your bathroom, a testament to your attempts at domesticity.
You placed the T-shirt beside the sweatshirt in the washing machine, feeling a bittersweet nostalgia wash over you as the machine began to spin, washing it away; the water swirling and swirling like your very own feelings. The rest of his belongings you carefully set aside in a wooden box, considering when and if you would return them to him. Maybe it would be a gesture of goodwill, a way to close a chapter, but the thought of confronting him felt daunting. And well, this wasn’t going to be comfortable, and it wasn’t meant to be.
Three weeks later, the distance felt like a weight in your chest. You hadn’t spoken since that last conversation, and every accidental encounter with him had turned into a delicate dance of avoidance, your eyes always darting away as if to shield yourself from the unspoken pain. You suspected he was doing the same; his awareness of your schedule was precise, his movements seemed planned. You barely crossed paths anymore, just the occasional glance from a distance, which made sense. Joel had always known your patterns; the same instinct he once used to “accidentally” run into you on the sidewalk or near your front door, he now used to stay out of your way, sidestepping anything that might turn awkward. And you didn’t blame him for it; there was a strange gratitude in the space he had created between you that allowed both of you to breathe.
Sarah, on the other hand, was still a constant presence in your day to day life. You couldn’t decipher what Joel had shared with her, but she was unequivocal in her understanding that something had shifted between you and her father.
“Dad said I can come see you as long as I don’t ask too many questions and I don’t fall asleep,” she announced brightly the first afternoon she bounded into your home, just two days after your last exchange with Joel. “But I want you to know I won’t say anything if you wanna tell me everything.”
Her offer was a balm, and despite the lingering pain, you found yourself laughing slightly as you embraced her. In that moment, you felt relieved to know that Joel had managed to compartmentalize, that his daughter was not to bear the burden of your heartbreak, nor was she responsible for the fallout. You wanted to continue seeing Sarah, and thankfully, she wanted to keep coming over too. That connection remained untainted by the rift between you and him.
The clock ticked on, and now it was five o’clock. It was a crisp afternoon; you stood in your front yard, the late autumn sun warming the back of your neck as you surveyed your plants. Closing your eyes, you savored the gentle warmth, the way it wrapped around you; you’d always loved this time of year, the scents in the air, the crisp edge of the breeze, the way the world turned soft under fading leaves. It was beautiful. Your lawn and those of your neighbors glowed with the fiery hues of orange and yellow, leaves fluttering like confetti in the soft breeze. It was, as always, your favorite season.
Suddenly, a voice broke through your reverie, calling your name. You turned to see Travis crossing the street, his smile brightening the drab fall afternoon. You waved back, unable to suppress a smile of your own as he approached.
“Enjoying the sunshine?” he asked, stopping beside you, his hand settling on your waist as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek.
“As much as I can,” you replied. Your gaze dropped momentarily to your feet before lifting back to meet his. “Going somewhere?”
“On a quest for dessert,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “Care to join?”
You hesitated, considering for a moment. “I’d better stay and get some work done,” you replied, gesturing toward your front door with a tilt of your head. “But lemme know when you get back; I’d love to help with dinner.”
He nodded, and you noticed the brief flicker of disappointment passing across his face before he masked it with a smile. After a brief goodbye, he left, giving your waist a gentle squeeze that sent a flutter through your stomach.
Two weeks prior, you had watched him run past your house, clad in sports gear, hair damp with sweat. There was something magnetic about him; he looked so effortlessly good that a rush of something (determination? Recklessness?) had surged through you. You couldn’t let your past with Joel hold you hostage any longer. It was absurd to keep Travis waiting, simply because you hadn’t been sure of what you felt, or how you should feel. So, you had gathered your courage and knocked on his door, feeling your heart racing at the thought of stepping out of the shadows of your previous life.
When Travis opened the door, his surprise morphed into delight had made your resolve solidify. You’d admitted to him that you were navigating a rough patch, and to his credit, he seemed to understand without pressuring you further. That night, he whisked you away for dinner, and in the weeks that followed, the ease of your time together became a welcome reprieve.
He was everything you needed: funny, honest, and refreshingly straightforward. He laid his feelings out without demanding anything from you, giving you space to breathe, to recalibrate. You had shared meals together, enjoying his company, indulging in laughter and sweet treats that he always brought, knowing they were your guilty pleasure.
With him, everything felt uncomplicated, and the more time you spent together, the more you sensed your feelings beginning to shift, like the autumn leaves around you. That night, you resolved to let him make the first move, ready to embrace whatever came next.
“What did you think?” Travis asked, his gaze lingering on you.
You let out a laugh. “That was… utterly ridiculous,” you said, watching the movie credits roll up the screen. “Ridiculous and completely unbelievable. It was good!”
He grinned, sinking back into the couch beside you, his eyes meeting yours. “Right? It’s like... a marvel in chaos. Terrible, but in a way that you can’t look away.”
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of disbelief and fondness for his strange taste in movies. Zombeavers. He’d made you watch Zombeavers, a movie so bizarrely nonsensical that you couldn’t help but laugh half the time, its zombie-beaver puppets meant to be terrifying but only succeeding in being bizarre. He’d assured you beforehand that it was purely for fun; don't take it seriously! and you’d been dubious but willing, of course.
As your laughter softened, you shifted just a little closer to him, that thrilling nervousness making your heart flutter. Travis had turned his attention to scrolling through movie options, his fingers lightly tapping the remote as he concentrated. For a brief moment, you hesitated, wondering if it was obvious; how close you were, how much you wanted him to notice. And gathering your courage, you rested your head on his shoulder, letting your gaze drift up to his face just as he glanced down. His eyes softened.
“You sleepy, pretty?” he murmured, and his voice had that gentle warmth that made you feel like a teenager again. Your cheeks flushed, and you wondered if he could feel your pulse quicken against him.
“No,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper as you smiled up at him. Tentatively, you lifted a hand to trace the line of his jaw, your fingers grazing his skin as you tilted his face closer. “I just like being with you.”
Travis’s smile deepened, and he leaned in, his hand cradling your face with such tenderness that it nearly broke something in you. His lips met yours softly, a gentle touch, so unhurried and respectful, and his thumb brushed lightly across your cheek.
You sank into the kiss, letting it ground you, feeling cherished and safe in a way you hadn’t for a long time.
But there, at the edge of your mind, was Joel. Joel with his intense, almost possessive hunger, the way he’d kiss you as if he were afraid he’d never have the chance again. That rawness, the recklessness; it was such a stark contrast to Travis’s gentle control, his restraint. And part of you hated yourself for even thinking about it, for craving something so reckless, for missing what you knew wasn’t good for you.
You pulled back slowly, afraid that your eyes might betray the swirl of conflicting feelings inside you. Travis’s gaze lingered, his hand still on your cheek, and he seemed almost reluctant to let you go, waiting for you to guide him back in. His patience was admirable, though you felt a strange frustration at the lack of urgency and the careful distance he maintained.
“I’m actually a little tired,” you said, giving him a quick peck on the lips, hoping he wouldn’t see through the slight restlessness in your eyes. “But I’d love to see you tomorrow. How about dinner at my place?”
He nodded. “Sounds perfect.” He stood, reaching out a hand to help you up. “I’ll walk you to your door, and that's just an excuse for another goodnight kiss.”
You laughed, reaching for his hand and letting him pull you up, feeling the warmth of his arm around you as you leaned against him. Outside, the air was brisk, and you wished you’d thought to bring a jacket. Not that it mattered much; Travis lived just across the block, a short walk away, but close enough to Joel’s house that the proximity always felt strange and provocative.
Crossing the street, you noticed Joel’s truck wasn’t there, and you willed yourself not to dwell on it, tuning back in to Travis’s voice as he asked, “Are you going?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Going where? Sorry, I zoned out for a second.”
“To the Hoffmans’ barbecue,” he said easily, unbothered by your momentary distraction.
Ah, the Hoffmans’ annual Halloween gathering, an event known for Brenda’s culinary enthusiasm and Ian’s grill mastery. Last year, Brenda had baked an array of spooky treats; eyeball jellies, spider cupcakes, you name it. Sarah had devoured at least ten jelly eyes, and you’d indulged in an uncountable number of chocolate spiders. The evening ended with a viewing of Nightmare on Elm Street, and everyone had left high on alcohol and sugar.
“Yeah, of course,” you replied, nodding. “Wouldn’t miss it. Brenda is amazing at baking. Have you tried her red berry cupcakes?”
“They’re dangerous,” Travis agreed, grinning as he walked you up to your doorstep.
A flicker of movement caught your eye, and you glanced over to see Tommy, Joel’s brother, sitting on the front porch of Joel’s house. A cigarette was hanging lazily from his fingers, and as you watched him, he watched you with a friendly, knowing smile. You simply couldn’t help but smile back, though you quickened your pace slightly as you reached your door.
“So, what time tomorrow?” Travis asked.
“Eight?”
“Perfect,” he replied, and once again his hand lifted to your cheek, thumb tracing the curve softly. But as he leaned in to kiss you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of invisible eyes, watching. Your mind lingered, unbidden, on Tommy’s piercing gaze.
Travis leaned down, and you met his kiss, brief, almost rushed, pulling away with a small, nervous smile.
“See you tomorrow,” you whispered, glancing up at him before stepping back. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, gorgeous.”
You stood watching him leave, distractedly thinking about the evening you'd spent. You were annoyed that you hadn't accepted his date earlier, and at the same time, you didn't blame yourself too much.
When Travis walked into his house and closed the door, an involuntary sigh escaped your chest.
"Everythin' okay over there?" Tommy’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts, sounding like a splash of cold water. He was sitting on the front steps, watching you with a casual curiosity that somehow felt entirely too knowing.
You approached slowly, glancing toward the empty entrance of Joel’s house.
"Hey, Tommy," you greeted. It was strange, seeing him here alone; another Miller, but not the one who lingered in your mind. "How are you?"
Tommy stubbed out his cigarette on the step, shrugging with a small grin.
"Well, currently on a break from babysitting duty," he joked. "What about you? It’s been a while, what’d Joel do now?"
A chuckle slipped from your lips. Oh, the irony. He probably didn’t know anything, yet he’d been part of Joel’s carefully built wall of deception. It made you feel odd, but you brushed the feeling aside.
"I've just been busy," you said, knowing how unconvincing every word sounded. You didn't care.
Tommy nodded. "Right," he said, an amused smile forming, "So, Dunn got the girl?"
You couldn’t help but smile back, though you realized too late that your openness might be ill-placed.
"Uh, yeah, I mean... He’s a good man. I really like him."
It felt surreal, sharing this with Joel’s brother, but somehow... you didn’t mind.
"Sarah’s asleep?" you asked.
He nodded, his smile softening. "Out like a light right after dinner. Poor kid didn’t even try the ice cream she begged me to get for movie night." He chuckled, shaking his head.
You smiled at the image, letting yourself savor the thought of Sarah, the cozy living room, the quiet warmth that had always drawn you to this house. It felt bittersweet, like glimpsing a life you no longer fit into. The last time you’d been there flickered in your mind, and any warmth vanished.
When you glanced back at Tommy, he was watching you, frowning a little. He was clearly trying to read what you weren’t saying.
"I don’t mean to pry," he began cautiously. "But Joel’s been… well, intolerable lately. Can I ask what happened?"
You raised an eyebrow, a sardonic smile creeping onto your lips.
"Sure, right, uh," you began. "He hasn’t told you anything?"
"You kiddin'?" He laughed, shaking his head. "I asked him once, a couple of days ago, and he practically bit my head off."
You let out a dry sigh, crossing your arms. "Well, he lied to me, pretty sure you know about that. And then we argued, and… things just happened."
Tommy’s eyes widened slightly, but the look of surprise faded quickly, replaced by a knowing smile. He stood up, crossing his arms as he stepped closer, his gaze amused and unrelenting.
"I knew it," he said, his grin widening. "You two slept together."
Your mouth fell open, and you dropped your arms, an incredulous laugh escaping.
"Shut up," you muttered, taking a step forward, cheeks flushing.
Tommy laughed, as if this moment had been a long time coming.
"I always knew it would happen," he said. "Ever since Joel introduced you, I swear, the guy had heart eyes and all. Poor guy looked like he was about to carve your name into every tree from here to the city limits. It was almost embarrassing."
You shook your head, feeling a pang of sadness pressing on your chest. "That’s not it, Tommy. That’s not… it’s not true."
He studied you, unconvinced, his brow furrowing slightly, though the amused glint remained in his eyes.
"Joel doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want… us," you continued, your voice suddenly quieter. "And honestly, I don’t think I do either." The words tasted bitter even as you said them, yet you held his gaze, determined to mean it. "I think I might actually like Travis."
"I see." Tommy’s nod was slow.
“Where is he anyway?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and you almost wished you could take it back. You shouldn’t be concerned about where Joel was spending his nights. But curiosity itched at you, demanding answers, like all the time. Fuck.
Tommy hesitated, rubbing his hand over his mouth, glancing off as if debating whether to answer. The pause made you anxious, and you shifted under his gaze, feeling exposed.
"He, um... He went to see—"
"Sienna," you finished, the name coming out like a blade. Tommy’s nod confirmed it, and you felt it cut a little deeper than you’d anticipated.
The thought of Joel being with her after being with you twisted something fierce and raw inside. Yet, a part of you was oddly grateful for the pain; it reminded you just how little he’d been affected by all of this, how seamlessly he’d returned to life as it had been.
Why should he have changed anything for one night? That didn’t mean enough to make him reconsider Sienna, his plans, his life without you. It was unbearable and somehow clarifying. It was almost naive of you to think a single night with him would make him leave her. After all those years of nothing changing, there was no reason to believe this time would be any different.
With your voice steadier than you expected, you looked back at Tommy. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Sure."
"Come with me for a second." You spun on your heel, heading toward your house, and you heard Tommy’s footsteps fall into step behind you. Inside, you gestured for him to wait in the foyer, then climbed the stairs with your heart pounding. A rush of resentment, of something close to fury, washed over you. You had to rid yourself of everything that still held you back to him, everything he’d left behind.
When you came back down, you were carrying a box, simple and impersonal.
Tommy glanced at it, lifting an eyebrow. "What’s that?"
"A couple of Joel’s things. Please be a dear and save me the trip of bringing them back to him?" You smiled tightly, the effort to stay composed nearly exhausting you from the inside.
Tommy laughed.
"Yes, ma’am," he said with a grin, giving you a small salute as he took the box. You watched him step over the threshold.
"Thank you, Tommy, see you around," you said softly, closing the door as he left. He smiled back at you.
Alone in the quiet of your house, your shoulders slumped, and all the strength you’d gathered felt like it was leaking away, leaving behind the ache of realization. Joel wasn’t just far from you; he was unreachable, a memory already fading, three weeks stretching like an eternity between you and the friend he’d once been.
Joel opened the door slowly, shoulders slumped, his gaze dropping to the floor before he even stepped inside. The house was dark and quiet, waiting for him to finally fill it. He glanced around the empty living room, feeling the stillness of the space, then checked the time on his wristwatch: 11 p.m. It felt later than that, somehow.
“Tommy?” he called, his voice breaking the silence as he moved into the kitchen, where he found his brother casually leaning against the counter with a bowl of ice cream.
“So, how was your night?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Joel exhaled and dropped heavily into one of the wooden chairs at the table. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, dragging it down over his mouth before resting it on the table, the weariness of the day palpable in the lines of his face. God, he felt old.
His eyes met Tommy’s probing gaze, and he tilted his head, frowning slightly.
“Fine,” he replied, clipped and a little defensive. “How was Sarah?”
“She conked out right after dinner,” Tommy replied, a smirk beginning to play at the corners of his mouth. “And how was Sienna?”
Joel rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair, shaking his head as if he could shake off the whole conversation.
“Are you stayin' over?” he asked after a few beats, redirecting, his voice carefully casual.
Tommy chuckled. “Only if you, sir, will permit me.”
“Sure,” Joel muttered, getting up from his seat. “Do what you want, but don’t be a pain in my ass,” he added, half-serious and amused as he walked over to the counter beside his brother.
He pulled open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. Tommy watched him, saying nothing, but his gaze lingered, curious, perceptive. Joel poured water into a glass, bringing it to his lips, pausing for a long drink before turning to face his brother. He could feel Tommy’s gaze boring into him.
It had always been like that, ever since they were kids. Sometimes Tommy wouldn’t say a word; he’d just look at him until Joel felt cornered into asking, what? Apparently, that was easier for him than just saying it outright.
Joel looked up.
“What?” he asked, all pretense of patience gone.
“Nothin',” Tommy said, drawing the word out, clearly testing the limits of Joel’s patience. Then, almost too casually, he tilted his chin toward a box resting by the wall across the kitchen.
Joel followed his gaze, his brow furrowing as he walked over. He lifted the box, feeling the weight of it in his hands, then set it down on the counter. With a cautious look at Tommy, he placed his hands on the lid, hesitating.
“What’s this?”
Tommy leaned back. “Your girl next door gave it to me,” he replied, each word almost too measured. “Said it was yours.”
For a few moments, Joel just stood there, as if frozen, processing Tommy’s words. He looked down, finally lifting the lid and peering inside. There, neatly folded, was his sweatshirt; the one he’d handed you one chilly evening when he picked you up from work. Beneath that was his old Pearl Jam t-shirt, the one you’d borrowed after a swim in his pool last summer. His favorite coffee mug sat tucked in the corner, along with a few CDs, a dog-eared paperback he’d loaned you weeks ago. Each item seemed to carry its own little echo of the time he’d spent with you.
After a few seconds, Joel placed the lid back on the box, sliding it away from him with a muted thud. He kept his expression steady, but his jaw was set, and his eyes remained fixed on the counter.
“And when did she give it to you?”
“A few moments ago,” Tommy said with a shrug, holding back a smirk as he noticed the tightness in Joel’s expression. “Saw her walking back from Dunn’s house, actually.”
Joel let out a dry, sardonic laugh. "Right. Of course."
"Actually," Tommy said, savoring another spoonful of ice cream, "he walked her to the door, all sweet-like. Gave her the whole mushy goodnight routine, kiss, movie shit." His gaze stayed fixed on the bowl, though Joel could see the glint of mischief there, Tommy was barely holding back a grin.
Joel’s fingers drummed on the counter, his gaze hardening. “Good for her. Bet she's fine.”
Tommy didn’t look up, just continued with his ice cream. “Sure she looked that way to me.”
“Like I care,” Joel muttered, his gaze fixed hard on the box beside him, fingers curling against the edge. “I can bet everything I’ve got she doesn’t even like him that much. That guy isn’t worth it, and she knows it.”
Tommy’s mouth quirked with amusement as he leaned back against the counter.
“Too bad that’s not up to you,” he said, casually pushing Joel’s buttons. “She looked happy. And for what it’s worth, in her own words, she does like him.”
Joel’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Tommy, as if by sheer force he could undo his brother’s last statement.
“You asked her? Tommy, you better not be goin' around—”
“Relax,” Tommy cut in, hands raised in mock surrender, though there was still a hint of smugness in his expression. “We just had a small conversation, okay? Didn’t even mention you.”
Joel let out a sharp, bitter laugh, though his face betrayed a flicker of something different. His fingers tapped the box, restless and resentful, as if it were the box’s fault for bringing up everything he didn’t want to admit. Then, his voice low and clipped, he gestured to the countertop.
“Clean this up when you’re done,” he said. “And don’t piss me off.”
Without another word, Joel turned on his heel and headed for the stairs, each step heavy and quick like he couldn’t get away fast enough. The tension in his back, the way his shoulders held too much weight, said enough. Who did Tommy think he was, coming in here with all that, telling him things he didn’t need to hear? He didn’t care about any of it. As far as he was concerned, you could date Travis, marry him if that’s what you wanted. None of it mattered to him.
But as he climbed the stairs two at a time, his mind raced against his will.
You’d been clear, hadn’t you? You didn’t want him in your life. No friendship, no connection, nothing. The words echoed, hollow and yet heavy, and as he reached the top of the stairs, he wondered how many more nights he’d have to wrestle with that idea, struggling to wrap his head around a life where you were nothing more than a memory he had to stop revisiting.
The sooner he accepted it, the easier it would be to see you with Travis, to manage the surge of irritation at the thought of his hands on you, to ignore the image of his arm slung casually around your shoulders. If he could accept it, if he did accept it, it would get easier, right? At least that’s what he told himself. He didn’t care. Obviously, he didn’t care.
He didn’t care that you’d decided to shut him out. Didn’t care that you were so resolute about it, that you barely seemed to miss him. He certainly didn’t care that he’d rearranged his mornings and evenings so he wouldn’t have to see you by accident. It wasn’t as if he still glanced at your door every time he came home, half-hoping he’d see you there, offering a smile and some easy excuse to stay. No, he wasn’t dwelling on how long it had been since he’d heard your voice or felt the comfortable warmth of your hand against his. Nearly a month now. And he was perfectly fine with it, honestly. It didn’t bother him one bit. He was fine.
So fine, in fact, that he ended things with Sienna over dinner without a moment’s hesitation. Her face had gone blank with surprise, but he’d brushed it off, even throwing in some lie about being “too busy” to make it work, anything to avoid her prying questions. She’d looked at him, confused but oddly resigned, as if she’d sensed his mind had been elsewhere for a while. He didn't care, he was fine with it.
But later that night, Travis Dunn had brought you to your door; walked you up, murmured sweet nothings as he leaned close, maybe kissed you goodnight. And Joel didn’t know the details, but the image of it burned into his mind anyway. He sat in his room alone, a bitter laugh escaping his throat, mocking himself for how easily he’d let the thought take root. You, wrapped up with Dunn. Pff.
In the darkness of his bedroom, Joel sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the empty space beside him, the silence amplifying every unspoken word, every unfulfilled touch. He was fine with it. Of course he was. He repeated it in his mind, willing himself to believe it, even as a hollow ache throbbed in his chest.
And as if the universe were doubling down on the irony, that night he dreamed of you.
Welcome to my fictional world, I'm Augustine—your typical literature student˙⋆✮
About me: She/her. I'm 26 years old and I live in Argentina. I've been writing my whole life, from journals to novels and fanfics. Die hard rom com lover and ocassional horror enjoyer.
— socials: ˙⋆✮ X | INSTAGRAM | KO-FI
— BOOK CLUB: ˙⋆✮ VANDSPELL BOOK CLUB (Goodreads)
Inbox always open!
˙MDNI! - MASTERLIST BELOW THE CUT ⋆✮
— ˙⋆✮ HONEY LOVE, DARK EYES
— Joel Miller has been your best friend for years. But one night after a heated argument, everything changes; in the blink of an eye, you're in a place you never thought you'd be: naked, beneath him, and with his eyes burning into you. Nothing will ever be the same.
Tags: no cordyceps outbreak, best friends to lovers, angst
HLDE MASTERLIST | AO3 | RE EDITING
— ˙⋆✮ A HAUNTED BODY
— You should've died that day. Instead, Joel Miller found you. After the Millers saved your life, you become something of a miracle. Now, you've been given a second chance, but the sweetness of your new home is overshadowed by the coldness of one of them: Joel. Unfortunately for him, Tommy assigns you to work by his side, as the assistant he claims he doesn't need.
Tags: Angst, so much angst, enemies to lovers (kinda?), joel has a big secret, smut, mental health!!!!, grief, explicit violence
AHB MASTERLIST | AO3 | ON GOING
— ˙⋆✮ THE MILLER METHOD
— Freshly thirty one, you've checked off almost every box on your dream-life list: a thriving career in publishing, loyal friends, and the apartment of your dreams. What you don't have? The family you thought you'd start with the man who just dumped you after seven years together. Fed up and determined to take matters into your own hands, you start mapping out every possible path to single motherhood. That is, until one too many drinks and one wildly ill-advised hookup with stranger Joel Miller send all your carefully laid plans spiraling down the drain. Now you're not just pregnant, but Joel has zero interest in staying out of the picture, dragging you into a relationship full of sparks, complications, and more drama than you ever imagined.
Tags: unexpected pregnancy, so much yearning, smut, joel is a good dad, alternative universe
TMM MASTERLIST | AO3 | ON GOING
— ˙⋆✮ONE SHOTS
LUCKY
— PART I: After a long, stressful week at the station, firefighter Joel Miller turns to the most natural form of stress relief: hitting the bar in search of a one-night stand. And as luck would have it, he finds you. wc: 8.3k
— PART II, "So lucky": Halloween has arrived, and for some reason, you feel lucky. Oh, so lucky. wc: 7.4k
AO3
— ˙⋆✮ THE BOYFRIEND ACT
— All you wanted was to get to Austin, but instead of your brother, it's Frankie (Santi's best friend, the one you can barely stand) who shows up in Dallas. He's just doing your brother a favor, but the trip takes an unexpected turn when a stop puts you face to face with your ex; the guy who broke your heart three months ago and is now about to get married. Out of the blue, you blurt out a lie: Frankie is your boyfried.
Tags: fake dating, enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, angst, smut, mental health!!!, grief
TBA MASTERLIST | AO3 | ON GOING
