borderline - the last of us.

18. onwards.

IT WAS SNOWY IN THE MOUNTAINS, but this cabin was nice. The woman who owned it was, surprisingly, even nicer, and she was very humble about Joel banging down her door and shoving his gun in her face. She made them soup, and Lou and Ellie had devoured it all within a second. It turned out her mom was Korean as well, which led to a very excited conversation between the two of them in Ralph's native language, a big smile on his face as he spoke to her. They had been walking for ages prior to finding the house in the middle of the open land, so this was very much needed.

None of them wanted to speak about the motel, about Sam or Henry. Joel had noticed that Ralph began to care for Lou a little bit more after everything had gone down, not that he had ever stopped. He just noticed that they would walk closer together now, arms around each other more frequently, and he would take her pleadings for breaks more seriously, often stopping the second she requested one and talking Joel down from continuing. It was sweet.

Their dishes clattered as Ralph brought them over to the sink, assuring Florence that he would clean them for her, acting like this was a friend he had had for his whole, entire life. Joel was leaning on a wooden pillar and listening to the conversation, not making any sense of it. He had ordered the girls to stay upstairs in the loft above him and not to come down until he told them to.

Ralph was halfway through talking about a "nappeun appa" when the door opened and Florence's husband, Marlon, entered the house. He shook off his jacket and then stared at the two men in his house with his jaw agape, looking at his wife as if to question her about it. She shrugged her shoulders.

'Who the hell are you two?' He demanded, but he didn't sound like he was going to fight back if one were to occur. After all, they were already in his house and sweet talking his wife. And he was also outnumbered, to add insult to two pre-existing injuries.

'We're just some folks passing through.' Joel stepped forward, holding a pistol and pointing it at the man. He stopped next to Florence and then barked out a demand. 'Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.'

Slowly, Marlon did as he was told and placed the gun on the table next to him, looking at Florence. 'Why didn't you shoot him?'

'The gun's all the way over there.' She nodded to a far corner of the kitchen, which led Marlon to stare at the stranger that was doing chores for them. He scrunched his face up. 'They didn't hurt me, by the way.'

'Yeah, I got eyes.' He bit back, walking forward to stand in front of his armchair and pointing at Ralph. 'What's he doing?'

'I made them soup.' Florence told him.

'You made them soup?' Marlon repeated.

'Yeah, I did.' She nodded. 'It's cold out!'

'We're looking for my brother.' Joel informed them, cutting off the adorable old people bickering with the grim reminder that he had a gun in his hands and he would probably use it if he wanted to.

'Well, I ain't seen him.' Marlon sat down.

'I haven't told you what he looks like.' Joel retorted.

'He look anything like you?'

'A bit.'

'Then I ain't seen him.'

'They've got girls with them.' Florence interrupted, nodding her head up to the loft where Lou and Ellie were peering over the railing and down onto the boring conversation on the ground floor.

'Can we come down?' Ellie asked excitedly, revolver in her fist.

'No.' Joel said, sighing in defeat when she was already racing for the staircase and hopping down it two steps at a time, Lou following suit. Huffing, Joel turned to the only person that could help him. 'Al!'