😭Can I please ask for a Joel x childhood bestfriend!reader that he abandoned when you know the world ended and then when they’re in the town they have some heart to heart moments? She had always loved him but now she doesn't probably want to get attached since like cordyceps and all.
⌞ VANISH. 𖤐 j.miller. ⌝
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
contains: angstttttttt
setting: pre apocalypse & between the last of us one and two
word count: 6 thousand
⌞author’s note⌝ im so sorry this took me so long bby!!
Joel had always been more than just your best friend — though, back then, you didn’t have the words to name what he was to you. From the moment you could walk, he’d been there, his shadow stitched to yours like a second heartbeat. Growing up as neighbours meant your lives were tangled together from the start; his front yard bled into yours, and so did everything else.
You, Joel, and his little brother Tommy were inseparable, orbiting each other through every corner of childhood. You went to the same school, caught the same buses, spent your summers in the same sun-soaked parks where your scraped knees and dirt-streaked faces were badges of adventure. There wasn’t a milestone in your life Joel hadn’t been part of — every first (most of which he had been a part of in one way or another), every fall, every moment that mattered had his fingerprints on it.
He was there when you lost your first tooth, standing in the kitchen holding a blood-stained napkin while you cried. He was there the day your father left, sitting cross-legged on your porch until the sun went down because he didn’t know how to fix it — but refused to leave you alone. He was there when you failed your first exam, when you learned to ride a bike, when you snuck out at night just to lie on the grass and watch the stars because neither of you could sleep.
By the time you grew into young adults, something had shifted — subtle at first, like a change in the wind you couldn’t name. The line between friendship and something more began to blur, soft and gradual, like it had been inevitable all along. A glance would linger a little too long. A laugh would carry something heavier beneath it. Every brush of his hand against yours felt like a secret neither of you were ready to say out loud. Joel wasn’t just woven into your past; he was stitched into your becoming. And somewhere along the way, without meaning to, you’d started wanting him in ways you didn’t know how to want anyone else.
But then he moved away. Texas called him for his final years of school, and though he had promised he’d write, that he’d visit during every school break, the words felt hollow the moment the moving truck rumbled down the street and out of sight. The world seemed to shift in that instant, smaller somehow, emptier.
For months, you mourned him—not just the friend you had lost, but the quiet, unspoken part of yourself that had gone with him. Every corner of your home felt heavier, every familiar path through town a reminder that he wasn’t there to laugh at the small absurdities of life with you. Nights were the worst, when memories flooded in unbidden: the way he used to grin over some private joke, the careless warmth of his hand brushing yours, the way his presence made everything feel safe.
It wasn’t just loneliness you felt; it was a sharp, hollow ache, the kind that seemed to settle in your chest and whisper that a piece of your heart had been packed into that moving truck, never to return. Even as life pressed on around you, the emptiness remained, a quiet echo of what had been stolen and a sorrow you didn’t know how to release.
As the years slipped by and high school finally came to an end, you threw yourself into your future with everything you had. Nights blurred into mornings as you poured over applications, chasing every opportunity you could find. Dozens of scholarships, countless essays, endless hope — most doors closed before you could even reach them. All except one. The acceptance letter from Dell Medical School arrived like a lifeline, the kind of chance you’d only ever dreamed of. For the first time in years, the path ahead felt real, solid beneath your feet.
In the quiet days before your departure, you visited your mother’s grave, the weight of everything you’d lost pressing heavy against your ribs. You laid down a small bouquet — her favourite flowers — and whispered a promise only she could hear. Then, with your chest tight and your heart caught between past and future, you booked a one-way flight to Austin, Texas.
After graduating from medical school, you decided to stay in Austin, the city that had slowly begun to feel like home. With no family to return to, you built a new life piece by piece — new friends, new routines, and a purpose that anchored you. You found your place at St. David’s Medical Center, working as a midwife, and for the first time, it felt as though you were exactly where you were meant to be.
Every day, you walked alongside women from all walks of life, guiding them through a chapter that was fragile, overwhelming, and beautiful all at once. You held trembling hands; soothed fears whispered through tears and celebrated quiet triumphs when tiny cries filled the room. In those moments, when new life took its first breath, you felt something close to peace. You had delivered hundreds of babies, and yet each one left an imprint on you — a reminder that, even in a world that could feel so uncertain, there was still something sacred and unbroken about beginnings.
And today was no different. You had been working all morning when one of your particularly difficult women had come in for a routine appointment. For weeks now she had been promising to bring in the father as per your request and today, she finally had. As the young couple — barely older than you — rose to their feet, it was as though the air had been sucked from the room. Your chest tightened, breath snagging somewhere between your lungs and your throat.
Then your gaze met his. You watched the colour drain from Joel’s face, the easy warmth in his expression faltering as recognition struck like a blow. His eyes locked on yours, wide and unguarded, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you ceased to exist.
You couldn’t move. Neither could he. It was as if time folded in on itself, pulling every buried memory, every laugh, every heartbreak to the surface in an instant. And from the way he stared — stiff, unmoving — it was clear he saw the same thing you did not the person standing in front of him now, but the ghost of everything you used to be to each other, returned without warning to unravel the careful life he’d built.
“Hi love,” You chocked out, correcting your expression from shock to warmth. “How are we feeling today?” You asked as you began to walk her and Joel back to your office.
The woman groaned, rubbing her rounded stomach. “Like shit.” She mumbled, taking a seat at your desk with Joel not to far behind her.
“The morning sickness?” You questioned, looking at the notes you had written on your desktop.
She nodded, her voice thick and full of condescension as she spat, “More like every hour of the day sickness.” She rolled her eyes, sipping on a green juice she had carried in with her. “Those pills you gave me do nothing; I can’t keep them down.” She added.
You nodded, only just for a second looking across to find Joel still in a state of shock as his eyes remained glued to you. “Like I said, there was only a small chance they would help, unfortunately its something that cannot really be fixed.” You advised, offering her a warm smile.
The woman scoffed, growing frustrated as most women do this late into their term. “This must be dad!” You spoke, your tone trying to remain chirpy despite the pit that was beginning to form in your stomach.
“I finally dragged him away from work for a day.” The woman added, finally a bit of excitement coming from her voice as her hand began roam across Joel’s back. “He’s just started a contracting business with his brother, and they are swamped!” She added, looking across to Joel only for him to be looking at his lap.
“I’m glad you could finally make it to an appointment.” You smiled warmly. “She talks about you a lot.”
Joel glanced at his partner first, a fleeting, fragile smile tugging at his lips before his gaze finally found yours. The expression didn’t reach his eyes — those soft, familiar brown eyes you could never forget. Beneath them, you saw it immediately: the weight of something unspoken, a quiet sadness that hadn’t dulled with time. You offered him a small smile, hoping to ease the tension, to make this less awkward than it already was. But it didn’t land. If anything, it only deepened the silence stretching between you.
Meanwhile, the woman at his side — the mother of his child — seemed blissfully unaware. Her voice filled the space between you as she launched into a rant about the mood swings and cravings she’d been wrestling with since your last visit. You nodded when appropriate, trying to focus on her words, but every time you glanced at Joel, you caught him doing the same — watching you from the corner of his eye, then looking away just as quickly. The air between you two felt tight, strained, as though there were entire conversations trapped in the silence, begging to be spoken but neither of you dared to start.
Joel never attended an appointment again; fearful he would see you again. When you delivered her baby – a beautiful baby girl – you had to see Joel again. This time he didn’t seemed so shocked, but you could see the shame lingering in his eyes every time he caught your gaze. But after a few days, you said your goodbyes to little baby Sarah and her mother and came to accept the fact that you and Joel were never destined to be in each other’s lives.
Six months later, in the stillness of the night, your phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number. Hesitation froze your hand for a heartbeat — part of you worried it was a client, another part dreading something worse. Reluctantly, you answered. Silence. Nothing but a tense, unbroken pause on the other end. And yet, a flicker in your chest told you exactly who it was. It was Joel.
“She’s gone.” You heard a sniffle, he had been crying. “She took everything and left; I need you.” He pleaded. You had never heard him so desperate. “She left Sarah.” Joel added.
“Where are you?” You cut in, stopping him from rambling any further. Joel gave you his address, his voice shaky. “I’m not far, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?” You could hear Sarah crying in the background and you could hear Joel sigh with grief. “Joel, it’ll be okay, I promise.”
Without question or hesitation you left your home in the dead of night, still in your pyjamas with no bra on but you could tell from the desperation in his voice that Joel needed someone. He needed you. The roads were close to empty and you got to his house within ten minutes. When you knocked at his front door, after a moment or two the door swung open. Joel stood there was little Sarah crying over his shoulder.
You could see it in his eyes. He was heart broken. His eyes were puffy and tired from hours of no sleep. “You need me to take her?” You asked quietly, opening up your arms.
Joel carefully manoeuvred Sarah to your arms before allowing you to take a step inside. “i didn’t know who else to call.” he apologized, making his way into the kitchen were a single piece of paper sat on the small breakfast table.
“Its okay.” You hummed, cooing Sarah to try calm her down as Joel flopped down into the dining chair, his hand raising to pinch his brows.
“She left this.” He spoke quietly, pushing the paper towards you as you sat down beside him, still slightly rocking as you tried to put Sarah to sleep.
You read the letter. You read every horrid word she wrote and every poor excuse she used. Leaving your child and partner in the middle of the night with nothing but a letter. You finally understood why he had been so distraught.
“Wow.” You breathed, pushing the letter away, patting Sarahs back as she finally calmed. “I don’t know what to say.” You spoke quietly, looking to Joel as he watched you and Sarah.
“I could think of a coupl’a things.” He hissed bitterly. “You want a drink?” He asked.
You nodded, watching Joel as he walked to the kitchen. He pulled down a bottle of Whiskey and two glasses. Before you could stop him, he grabbed two blocks of ice and poured the whiskey into each glass. You hadn’t planned on drinking alcohol, after all you had work in a few hours but Joel was in an hour of need and one drink couldn’t hurt.
“Do you want my advice?” You asked, not really knowing the reason as to why Joel had chosen you.
He could have called Tommy. Joel surely would have had new friends but out of everyone he called you. Someone be hadn’t spoken to in almost seven years. Joel hummed in response before taking a sip of his drink.
“I would go to the IRS tomorrow and claim CTC for Sarah.” You advised. “There are a few more places you’ll need to go to start collecting different benefits now that your a single parent. I can take the day off tomorrow and help out with Sarah until we can find you a sitter or maybe get her into childcare early.” You started, taking a sip of the whiskey as Joel sat down. “I know enough people in different governments departments what will be able to help you out.” Joels eyes were glued on Sarah as she had finally fallen asleep for the first time all night. “I don’t mind helping Joel.” You spoke softly.
After nearly seven years of silence, that very night felt as if no time had passed at all. Over the next twelve years, you and Joel slowly rebuilt your friendship. You watched Sarah grow up, becoming a motherly presence in her life, stepping in where Joel was a little unsure. Over the years, something deeper blossomed between you and Joel—something that words couldn’t quite capture. Tommy and Sarah had teased both of you about it for years, but neither of you could ever fully define what it was.
Today was Joels 36th birthday and Sarah had been planning everything for weeks. Every year for Joels birthday, you, Sarah and Joel would stay up late and watch Curtis and Viper while eating a mixture of cake and candy. This year, like Sarah had planned, you arrived at their home just before six with a cake from the local bakery with a big grin plastered on your face.
“Hello!” You shouted into an empty house, your eyes scanning for sarah.
“In the kitchen!” Sarah yelled back.
You made your way through the home before finding Sarah in the kitchen eating some food from dinner the night before. “Wheres the birthday boy?” You asked, putting the cake in the fridge because resting on the edge of the dinner table.
“Still at work I guess.” She shrugged. “He should be home soon though.” Sarah added.
A few movies later and most of the snacks gone, you heard a carl roll into the drive way. Your eyes were heavy and just about ready for bed.
“You locked the door for once. Good job.” Joel mumbled, walking through the front door with his phone in hand.
Joel flashed you a smile as he found you cuddled up on the couch with Sarah. “I didn’t lock it.” Sarah grinned, looking across at you before pulling a face at Joel.
The glowing light of the tv flicked off as Joel tossed the remote onto the coffee table causing Sarah to groan. “It’s ten.” Sarah stated, reminding Joel he was late for his own birthday.
“I know,” Joel groaned, slumping down on the couch between you and Sarah. “They gave us the wrong size for the headers.” He paused for a moment, looking at the uninterested Sarah beside him. “That doesn’t mean anything to you, I’m sorry.” He apologized.
“Lucky I remembered the cake huh?” You teased.
“Shit.” Joel groaned.
Sarah sat upright with a grin creeping onto her lips as she giggled, “Yeah lucky! Otherwise I wouldn’t have given you your present!”
“You got me a present?” Joel smiled, giving Sarah a little nudge. Sarah pulled out a small green box and handed it to her father. “Wow.” He breathed.
“Fix it for you.” She spoke quietly, looking across to you and giving you a warm smile knowing it was the watch you gave Joel for his thirtieth birthday.
“Did you?” He asked, lifting the watch to his ear. “I don’t hear anything.” He mumbled, causing Sarah to snatch the box.
Sarah let out a scoff of annoyance before letting out a soft laugh. “That was lame, You’re lame.”
“Yeah, I know.” He grinned, leaning back and wrapping his arm around the back of the couch, his hands draping over your shoulder. “Where’d you get the money for this?” He asked.
“Drugs.” Sarah smiled. “I sell hardcore drugs.” She giggled.
Joel smiled, his fingers running up and down the top of your shoulder. “It’s better than what I do.” He smirked, making Sarah giggle.
“It was only $20, which I stole from you.” Sarah added causing Joel to shoot her a look. “I could’ve stolen sixty, but I put the change back because I’m an honest thief.” She smiled, leaning back into the couch.
“Mhm.” Joel grinned, his eyes looking over to yours as you tapped his leg. “You headin’ home?” He asked quietly, his soft brown eyes giving you enough of a reason for you to smile. You nodded, your eyes heavy after having a long shift at the hospital. “I’ll walk ya out,” He offered, standing up and offering you a hand.
“I’ll see ya later Sar!” You smiled, waving goodbye to her before walking towards the front door. She yelled out goodbye and turned the tv back on. “Did you see all the traffic today? Downtown was a nightmare.” You mumbled.
Joel nodded, experiencing some of the traffic himself. “Almost made me late this morning.” He grumbled, leaning up against the door frame as you stood in front of him, the warm night air wrapping around you. “You sure you don’t wanna stay?” He asked quietly, his voice soft and warm.
“I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.” You weakly smiled, wishing you could stay and spend a few hours with Joel. “I can stop by tomorrow, I think Sarah’s stayin’ at a friend’s place so I can bring over some Chinese.” You teased, earning a smile from Joel.
“Sounds like a date.” He smirked, leaning forward just by half an inch.
You let a breathy laugh slip from your lips causing Joels eyebrows to pinch together. “You wish.”
After sharing a warm hug and a gentle kiss on his cheek, you made your way home. The traffic was unusually heavy, and the radio stations seemed to be consumed with talk of a pandemic overseas. Fatigue settled in, making it harder to keep your eyes open as you searched for your house keys. The moment you laid down on your pillow, sleep came quickly, pulling you under. You were completely unaware of the turmoil starting to unfold around you, too tired to notice the world shifting.
When you woke the next morning, the world was already unrecognizable. The silence was wrong—thick, unnatural, broken only by the distant wail of sirens and something else, something feral. Your first thought was Joel, Sarah, and Tommy. Panic clawed at your chest as you reached for your phone, dialing number after number, but all you got was static, half-words swallowed by the chaos on the other end.
You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed your keys, left your home, and stepped into a nightmare. The street outside was a battlefield. Dozens of bodies lay twisted and broken, strewn across the asphalt like discarded dolls. Some were fresh. Some were already cooling. The air burned your throat—smoke, gasoline, blood—all tangled into one suffocating stench.
You drove fast, too fast, every shadow and flicker in your periphery making your hands tremble against the wheel. By the time you reached Joel’s house, your stomach had already sunk. The front door gaped open like a wound. The street was littered with motionless bodies, some curled in the fetal position, others sprawled unnaturally as if they’d fallen mid-run.
Inside, the silence was deafening. You searched every room, every corner, calling their names in a hoarse whisper you barely recognized as your own. Nothing. No note. No trace. Just overturned furniture and the faintest hint of Sarah’s shampoo clinging to the hallway air.
You forced yourself back outside and made your way to Tommy’s apartment, heart pounding in your ears. Another unlocked door. Another hollow home. Another crushing absence.
When days blurred into weeks, and weeks decayed into decades, hope rotted away like the dead cities behind you. The world had long since burned, and with it, any trace of the family you once knew. You wandered the shattered skeleton of America — through ash-choked valleys, over rusted highways haunted by silence and the screams of the forgotten.
Nearly thirty years later, your body barely clinging to life, you staggered toward towering wooden walls rising from the wasteland. You didn’t recognize the town. It didn’t matter. Nothing did anymore.
The guards eyed you like a feral animal but let you pass, rifles always within reach. They dragged your half-dead form to an infirmary where old medicine and wary kindness kept you from dying. After a few days, once the fever broke and the shaking stopped, they gave you a choice — if you wanted to stay in their sanctuary, you’d have to face the town council. No one stayed without proving something. Not in a world like this.
They led you through the ruins of what had once been a town hall — the bones of the old world repurposed into something colder, harder. The front foyer was dimly lit, the air thick with dust and distrust. A long, battered table dominated the space, ringed with silent figures who studied your every movement like carrion birds deciding if you were worth the trouble.
You forced your head up, muscles screaming, vision swimming — and then the world tilted. Among the council, half-hidden in the shadows, sat a face you had long buried in memory — a ghost wrapped in flesh. His eyes, once wild with conviction, were now sunken, surrounded by the deep canyons of age. Grey threaded through his hair. But the fanaticism… that was still there, smoldering quietly beneath the years.
“I thought you were-” He breathed, face riddled with disbelief as he slowly began to stand up. “Come ‘ere.”
You walked forward and opened your arms as Tommy pulled you into a warm hug. He hugged you tightly and for a little longer than you had expected.
“I tried looking for you.” You whispered, almost on the brink of tears as Tommy eventually pulled away.
A down turned smile ghosted over Tommy’s lips. “I’ll talk to the council, but I wanna take you somewhere first.” Tommy spoke quietly.
You nodded quietly, letting Tommy’s voice guide you as he laid out the plan for the others. You followed him through winding paths and narrow streets, and for the first time, you truly saw the community. Despite the walls meant to keep the world at bay, life still thrived here. Laughter spilled from open windows. Children darted between houses, chasing each other with sticks as if the earth beyond those gates wasn’t rotting. The faint sound of hammering carried from somewhere nearby, mingling with distant voices. For just a second, it almost felt like the world hadn’t ended. Almost.
Tommy spoke to you softly as you walked, a few quiet words exchanged, but your mind barely registered them. Every step made your chest feel heavier, your breaths slower. It was only when he stopped that you looked up and saw it: a modest house tucked beneath the shade of an old elm tree, its paint chipped, its mailbox battered and rusted. The name Miller was scrawled across it in faded black paint. Tommy climbed the porch steps and knocked against the weathered wooden door. The sound echoed, sharp and hollow, like it carried too much weight. You stood frozen on the path, heart pounding harder with every passing second.
When the door finally creaked open, Joel stood there. For a long, fragile moment, neither of you spoke. He looked different — older, worn in ways that went deeper than skin and bone — but those same soft brown eyes stared back at you. Eyes you had memorized once. And in them, you saw it all: recognition, regret, and something you couldn’t name. It was the same look he’d worn the last time you saw him, standing in that hospital hallway, surrounded by blood and ghosts. And just like back then, you felt the weight of everything you’d lost crash over you all at once.
Joel said nothing. For a moment, he just stood there, framed by the doorway, his gaze locked on yours like he was searching for proof that you were real. His breath hitched, just barely, and you caught the faint tremor in his jaw — the weight of unspoken years pressing down on him. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms wrapped around you in an embrace so raw, so full of things neither of you could name, that it stole the air from your lungs. It was desperate and fragile all at once — as if he feared that if he held on too tightly, you might shatter or vanish.
You sank into him before you even realized you had moved, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt like you could anchor yourself there, in that moment, away from everything else. No words could have carried the depth of what was being said in silence — the grief, the longing, the years of what-ifs tangled between you. For the first time in so long, you felt the ghost of who you both used to be. And somehow, that hurt most of all.
“I’ll catch up with you two later.” Tommy spoke quietly, his eyebrows pinching together slightly before he turned around and walked down Joels porch steps.
Joel ushered you inside and without words needing to be exchanged you sat down in his living room, the soft morning glow of the summer sun shone through his curtains. “I don’t know what to say.” Joel said quietly, as guilt that had consumed him for more than twenty years began to resurface.
“Where’s Sarah?” You asked, your voice riddled with a sadness you couldn’t quite explain.
“She died.” Joel answered plainly, his hand instinctively beginning to play with the watch you had gotten him for his thirtieth birthday and the same watch that Sarah had fixed for him. “She died the night of the outbreak.” He added, his voice stricken with grief.
You looked at the green weathered watch he wore on his wrist, surprised to see it even after all these years and you noticed the chips and broken glass. He had been wearing a broken watch for almost thirty years. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you.” Joel spoke after a beat of silence. “I should have gone and got you.”
“You know,” you started, your voice trembling before you could stop it, “I went to every damn QZ in Texas looking for you.”
Your tone was sharper than you intended, but once the words left, you couldn’t reel them back in. Joel sat there on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight enough to whiten his knuckles. He didn’t look at you, and that only made the anger twist deeper in your chest.
“I was five minutes away,” you choked, your voice cracking under the weight of it. “Five minutes, Joel.” Tears blurred your vision, spilling before you could stop them, but you kept going, each word like ripping open an old wound. “I never stopped looking for you!” you cried, breath hitching as you pointed a shaking finger at him. “I went to every city, followed every lead, talked to anyone who would listen. I… I waited at your goddamn house for months.”
Your voice broke entirely, raw and ragged. “I thought you might come back,” you whispered, so softly it barely carried between you. “I prayed you weren’t dead.” Joel’s shoulders sagged, his head bowing, but still he said nothing. Not a word. “Why didn’t you come for me?!” you shouted, the sound tearing out of your chest before you could swallow it down. “Why didn’t you even look for me, Joel?”
The silence after your words was deafening, filling every corner of the room, suffocating. Joel finally turned his head, his eyes glimmering beneath the weight of all the years and all the ghosts between you.
When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, cracked around the edges — barely more than a breath.
“I… I don’t know,” he rasped, the words sounding like they cost him something to say. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, as though meeting your eyes might break him completely. “I thought the worst,” he whispered, each syllable weighted with years of unspoken grief. “I told myself you were gone. That you were…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening, struggling to finish. “I couldn’t bear the thought of finding you out there — one of those things.” Joel swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort, and when he finally looked up, his eyes were glassy, haunted. “I didn’t want to be the one to… to put you down.”
The confession hung heavy in the silence between you, settling in your chest like ash — suffocating, bitter, impossible to swallow. It was raw, painful, and achingly human — tangled in love, cowardice, and the unbearable weight of survival. A part of you wished you had screamed at him, wished you had poured out every sleepless night, every unanswered prayer, every moment you spent standing on shattered hope. You wanted to hurt him the way his absence had hurt you. You wanted to rage, to make him feel the years you’d lost.
But then his eyes — those unforgiving, storm-dark brown eyes — found yours. The fight drained from you in an instant. You hated him for leaving. You loved him for surviving. And when he looked at you like that — like you were a ghost he’d been carrying in his chest all these years — you wanted nothing more than to collapse into him, to let him hold you the way he used to when the world was still whole. Your throat tightened painfully, the tears you’d been holding back finally threatening to spill. Every breath burned. Every second stretched endlessly between you. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to forgive him. And, God, you wanted him to love you still.
Your chest rose and fell with shallow, unsteady breaths, every muscle coiled tight as if your body couldn’t decide whether to run or to fall apart right there in front of him. Joel didn’t move at first, didn’t speak. He just sat there; shoulders hunched like the weight of everything he’d never said was crushing him. His fingers twitched against his knees — the smallest, most human tell — like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t believe he had the right anymore. Finally, his voice broke the silence, low and rough, like gravel dragged across stone.
“I thought I was protectin’ you,” he whispered, his accent thicker, softer than you remembered. “I told myself lettin’ go was the only way I could live with it. But I never stopped thinkin’ about you. Not once.”
That was it. That was the fracture point. The sob tore from your throat before you could stop it, raw and uncontained. You pressed the heel of your palm against your mouth to muffle the sound, but Joel heard it anyway. His breath caught, his jaw tightening as if your pain was his own. Then he moved — hesitantly at first, like a man testing forbidden ground — and reached for your hand. His touch was warm, calloused, achingly familiar. The moment his fingers brushed yours, the dam inside you broke.
“I waited for you,” you choked out, your voice trembling, barely more than a breath. “All those nights, Joel… I waited. Every shadow on the street, I thought it was you.”
Joel’s hand closed over yours fully now, firm but shaking. You could feel the guilt radiating off him like heat.
“I know,” he rasped, his voice fraying at the edges. “I know, darlin’… I know.”
You hated how the endearment still melted you, hated how a single word could undo years of hardened resolve. You leaned forward, your forehead almost touching his, tears sliding freely down your cheeks. You could smell the faint trace of leather and earth on him.
“I don’t know how to forgive you,” you whispered, voice cracking.
Joel’s thumb brushed gently across your knuckles, slow, reverent.
“You ain’t gotta forgive me,” he murmured, his breath shaky against your skin. “Just… let me be here now. Please.”
The words settled between you, fragile and uncertain, but heavier than any promise he’d ever made. And though you didn’t move, something in the air shifted — the years of silence, grief, and longing collapsing into this one moment where love and regret became indistinguishable. The silence between you stretched, fragile and trembling, like the final breath before a storm. Joel’s thumb traced absent, careful circles over the back of your hand, as though he was terrified that if he let go, you might vanish again.
You stared at him — at the lines carved deep into his face, at the exhaustion in his eyes, at the weight he carried in every subtle tremor of his body. He wasn’t the same man you remembered, and yet… he was. The one who used to make you laugh until your ribs ached. The one you had loved, even if you’d never said it out loud.
Tears blurred your vision, and you blinked them away, though they clung stubbornly to your lashes. “Joel,” you breathed, his name breaking in your throat like a prayer, like a plea.
Something shifted in his gaze then — something raw and unguarded, cracking through the walls he had spent years building. His hand came up slowly, hesitantly, and brushed against your cheek. The roughness of his palm grounded you, familiar and foreign all at once. You didn’t pull away. Neither of you moved at first, locked in the space where memories and heartbreak tangled, where longing lived alongside the pain. His breath was warm against your skin, uneven and unsteady, and you realized yours matched his.
Your forehead tipped forward, meeting his, and for the briefest moment you hovered there, suspended between past and present, between all the years lost and the possibility of something unspoken. Joel’s lips brushed yours so softly it could’ve been mistaken for a sigh. The kiss was hesitant, trembling, like neither of you trusted it to be real. It tasted of salt and sorrow, of regret and the weight of everything unsaid. And yet, beneath it all, there was something else — something warm and familiar that had never truly gone away.
When you finally broke apart, your breath caught between you, Joel didn’t speak, and neither did you. Words felt too small for what had just passed between you, for what had been buried and unearthed in a single fragile moment.
He rested his forehead against yours, his thumb still brushing gently along your jaw. “I’m so damn sorry,” he whispered, his voice splintering.
And for the first time in years, you let yourself close your eyes and lean into him, letting the grief and the longing fold into one.
[ MASTERLIST ] 𖤐