Wrapping up the next chappy of ellie in a tree, so obviously I'm sharing a snip from the third installment of explain the infinite (entitled the one i will still call yours).
@messitydepressity , thank you for the tag!!
The quiet is turning awkward for them both; she can feel Joel tensing even though he hasn’t moved. She should say something, but what? I don’t know if we’d have this if Tess hadn’t died? That sounds like she’s jealous of a dead woman, and she’s not. She just… there’s no imagining a life where she doesn’t have a Joel.
A heart-stopping shriek from the kitchen cuts her musing short and sends them both about ten feet in the air. Joel shoves her behind him, pressing her into the cushion and scrambling for a pistol that isn’t there, before she’s registered the source.
“Dinner,” she breathes, wiggling out of her Joel prison. He’s wearing his danger face now, even though they’re home and there isn’t any danger. “I don’t remember the timer being that loud. It’s worse than a hungry Benji.”
Joel blinks a few times, overprotective-danger face settling into his usual asshole face, with a side of confusion. “That’s the point, kid.”
“It’s my first time shitting my pants thanks to a plastic pepper,” she complains, glancing into her glass. Somehow, she didn’t spill a drop. “Gimme a break.”
Joel shifts, immediately winces, and reaches for his knee. Shit, that's right — she could hear it earlier, when he first got home. It's worse than usual today.
“I got it, marshmallow man,” she teases, patting his shoulder. “Can’t have you breaking a hip.”
“Funny,” Joel grumbles, settling back into the couch. “Careful; it’ll be hot.”
“Wait, what? An oven makes things hot?” She rolls her eyes for good measure and makes a show of stepping over his legs. When she accidentally catches Joel’s calf, he just sighs. “God, I have so much to learn here in Jackson. What’s next? The refrigerator makes things cold?”
Her next step is interrupted by Joel’s toe catching the back of her shoe so she steps right out of it. “Asshole!”
“Little shit,” he retorts, kicking her sneaker across the room and jerking his chin toward the kitchen. He sounds normal again. Good. They’ve shared a lot of emotions or whatever. The chance to decompress is more than welcome. “Throw that bread in the oven while you’re dishin’ up dinner.”
np tags: @lauronk , @bumblepony , @chronicallyonlinewriter