Ellie Williams x F!Reader

Twenty-Three

The mood was a little pressed as you and Ellie made it back to the room in which your father, hopefully, was taking a rest.

The metal door was closed, just the way you had after leaving. Right after yet another argument.

Almost immediately your mood turned even gloomier and you couldn't help but grit your teeth in annoyance. Yeas, he was very stubborn. But you did not see a reason why that had to be your problem.

Not after what had happened to her.

Not after your mistake.

And not after what he had done.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you closed your eyes and listened how Ellie pushed the door open. Small strands of light fell through the cracks into the darker hallway.

Warmth caressed your skin and all of a sudden you imagined that those were Ellie's fingers lovingly caressing your cheek.

At the thought goosebumps crawled up your spine. Then they faded into a strange sensation that was something between shock and soothing softness.

The door opened. Ellie set foot inside, hesitantly at the sight of an old man who barely managed to raise his head from his slumber.

"Ah...", a thin but warm smile appeared on his lips. It's you.

Ellie smiled shyly.

"It's Ellie.", she threw a glance back over her shoulder.

You smiled.

"Guess it wasn't half bad to save her, pa.", you placed the rifle against the wall. "Got any food left for her?"

His old eyes wandered over the camp cooker, empty cans and some tools he had tried to fix. Some were rusty and unstable while he had managed to actually save others such as a few knives.

Interested, you picked through the blades and let one twist between your fingers. It was slender, with such a sharp tip that it reminded of a needle.

"Not a switchblade.", you said and offered it to Ellie, handle first. "But better than nothing."

For a brief moment she eyed the green details. It reminded you of her tattoo. You found yourself looking at it once more.

Maybe it was just your imagination but you felt like this tattoo had more meaning than Ellie wanted to admit. A few seconds passed and she awoke from her trance, reached out and accepted the knife.

"Thanks...", her voice gave away that this wasn't what she wanted but did not wish to be ungrateful.

The switchblade she had lost must have meant something to her. But it was impossible to get it back now. The sea had taken it.

"Here, have some.", your father handed her a bowl of lukewarm food. "You look thin. Eat slowly so your stomach won't get upset."

Again, she nodded in a thankful manner and took the first bite. You watched for a while, just to make sure she would eat, and devoured the leftovers yourself.

Silence spread in the room.

You and Ellie filled your stomachs with food and then washed everything down with the water you had taken from the pond.

Your father's attention wandered to the window. Light caressed his face, brought out all the deep wrinkles. Greyish strands stretched across his hair that thinned with every day.

He was getting old. Or already was.

There was no way in hell that he'd survive this world without any help. Perhaps he'd be able to make it a few weeks or months. Maybe years. But not long enough to call it a fulfilling life spawn.

There it was again. Guilt. So much guilt. And yet it was the only thing that made you stay. Not love or the wish to care for him.

Just the constant thought that he had saved you and you owed him for that. Forever.

Sucking in a sharp breath you closed your eyes and tried to turn back to food. But all of a sudden every bite felt bitter, rotten.

Annoyed, you pulled a face and forced down the last bites of food. In a world like this you couldn't afford to let anything go to waste.

From the corner of your eyes you glanced at Ellie. She was done eating, an empty cup of metal in her hand. Her eyes were fixed on the small tomato sauce stains.

She was lost in thought.

Again, you looked at your father once more only to feel a kind of stabbing sensation that gauged itself into your chest.

His eyes lay on you, a deep expression in them. You knew this expression. He always looked at you this way when he wanted to propose an idea you wouldn't agree with.

Curling your lips, you swallowed the taste of vomit and raised your eyebrows in an expecting manner.

Tired, he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. You hated it. Every time he tried to beat around the bush he did this.

Guilt.

All he wanted was to make you feel guilty, to lower your resistance.

Cursing to yourself you let out a deep sigh of displeasure.

"What?", your voice was sharper than you had intended.

He pulled a face.

"Harsh tone.", he just noted and avoided your gaze again.

You rolled your eyes and let out a deep breath.

"Pa."

"Fine, fine. No need to get impatient.", chuckling to himself, he scratched the side of his face where grey strands started to stretch through his beard.

He was in desperate need of a shave.

"No need to fight in front of Ellie.", once more you found yourself looking at her.

She caught your gaze, smiled apologetically. Then, without a word, Ellie got up and grabbed her bow.

"I'll take a walk.", she said and as your gazes met it was clear that she wasn't comfortable around a daughter and her father.

Especially not when they were at the brink of an argument. Something seemed to hurt her about this whole situation.

Maybe Joel, it crossed your mind. A soft smile appeared on your lips before she pulled the door shut and left you with your father alone.