Joel Miller x Reader

Eighteen

"Do you think they will manage?", you asked while throwing a glance over your shoulder to look at Joel.

Ever since the two of you had taken the horses to follow Abby's traces, he had not said a single word. The look on his face had not changed either. He seemed like he was about to open the earth and summon hell itself.

Now, he blinked and a spark of life returned to his empty eyes.

"Tommy is a tough one.", he assured and let his horse run next to yours.

A soft laugh escaped you.

"No doubt about that. But his leg will never heal. It will be useless for the rest of his life."

With a grim hum, Joel nodded.

"I know...", he sighed. "But he will be fine. He once broke his arm. Three different spots were broken. Was supposed to never hold a gun again. And now look at him, shooting like a cowboy in a western."

Grinning amused, you had to frown.

"Those old ass movies?", you asked. "How old are you to remember those?"

He shrugged, also starting to smile a little.

"Old enough to be your father I suppose.", he tilted his head to take the first, proper look at you.

The way you were sitting on your horse impressed him, as straight as a tree and with a cautious gaze as if you were never careless, never made a mistake.

The (H/C) of your hair made him take a second glance.

He frowned.

"Maybe not...", he corrected himself.

You noticed that he had spotted the grey strands that were slowly spreading across your head.

"The hair turned grey because of stress. This world drains the last drop of youth from humans. Made my old companions look like fifty year olds whilst being in their thirties. But I'm older than Ellie anyways.", you said. "I'm pretty sure of that. But younger than you."

"Also pretty sure of that?"

Raising an eyebrow in a sarcastic manner, he leaned towards you.

His dark brownish hair was already pretty silver at the sides of his head and at the tips. The full bread made him look harsh and maybe even older than he actually was.

And the tanned, scared skin of his face did not help to make him look a day younger. His body told all the stories he had been through. And they couldn't have been pretty ones.

But despite the signs of time, you had to admit that he was rather handsome.

You shook your head and turned away. The thought made you blush a little.

You frowned.

Maybe you were getting old, sentimental even. You had never missed the company of other people. However, taking to a man of flesh and blood, rather than a faded memory in your mind, felt quite soothing.

"Anyways.", you cleared your throat. "We should hurry. Abby had a head start. She might be down the hill already."

"And she has a car.", Joel added.

His face turned dark again as his eyes wandered down the hill, into the valley.

The landscape was as white as the wings of angels, untouched and looking like a fairy tale. The frozen lake danced around the trees, throwing a bit of blue into the mix. The snow storm had calmed down and instead, thick, white clouds fell from the sky as if they wanted to put the trees and earth to rest.

White clouds rose from your lips as you breathed out.

Time flew by, a few hours, maybe more and the day melted into evening.

The bluish grey of the sky turned orange and purple, drowning the world in a vail of gold.

Wrapped in silence, Joel jumped off his horse. If it were for him, he would have liked to ride through the night and all the days to come but his eyes were getting heavier and heavier. The way he was sitting on his horse was concerning, so tired and exhausted.

With enough convincing and a little bit of force, you had managed to bring him to take camp in an abandoned house for a few hours.

Groaning, he dropped the saddle of his horse on the ground and gathered some necessities to start a small fire in a fire basket he had found in the garden.

Relieved, you sighed and rubbed your cold hands as warmth spread through the room.

He watched you as you did so. There was enough distance between you to seat ten people. The look in his eyes told stories of mistrust and the fear to get betrayed.

You knew this king of look. Many years you had looked at humans this way.

"You don't have to look at me like that.", you said without taking your eyes off the dancing flames. "I am not an enemy. You should realize that by now."

Wrapping his arm around his chest, he breathed out.

"I don't know what to make of you.", he admitted. "You are not very open with your past. And your motives seem questionable as well."

You shrugged.

"I believe you have secrets too. You don't have to trust me with your life. But it would be advantageous if you at least acknowledge my good will."

"And how should I do that? I don't even know your name."

Blinking in surprise, you raised your head.

"Right, I forgot...", you turned to him and offered a hand. "It's (Y/N)."

Sceptical, he eyed the hand before accepting the gesture.

"No last name?", he asked with a raised eyebrow, still holding the hand.

For a moment you thought.

"I once had one. But that was long ago."

"Don't want to share it?"

A painful sigh left your lips.

"Truth be told, I don't remember it. Nobody has said it in a long time. Feels like an eternity."

Surprised, his eyebrows rose.

"You're all alone, aren't you?", he asked, a hint of pity in his voice.

You shrugged.

"Wasn't always the case.", you admitted. "I had family once. Friends and companions."

"What happened to them?"

"Tale as old as time. They didn't make it. This world was too much to bare."