desolation - an ellie williams fanfic

11 - crush

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  11 - crush ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

That night, after Ellie and I returned from patrol, I came home feeling a whirlwind of emotions I couldn't quite understand. My hands were clammy, my heart raced in my chest, and a strange excitement coursed through me. My head was filled with thoughts of her. I'd planned to be friendly with the girl, but this was something else entirely. It wasn't just physical attraction—though I couldn't deny that was part of it—this was different. I didn't know what it was, but I wanted it to go away. Maybe it would be better to get closer to someone else in town. I hadn't even met Joel yet; perhaps spending time with him, going on a few patrols, and learning about what happened in Salt Lake would help. Anything to escape the queasy feeling in my stomach and the way my legs turned to jelly whenever I was around her.

I found myself drifting toward the bathroom, my mind grappling with the question: Did I like Ellie? How could I possibly like someone I was convinced I hated? I'd heard people talk about this kind of feeling—a "crush," they called it. Maybe that's all it was, just a stupid crush. I needed a distraction, something to push her out of my thoughts. I quickly stripped off my clothes and stepped into a cold shower, determined to think of anything but Ellie.

Anything but her cool-toned skin that flushed with a soft, rosy hue. Anything but her auburn hair, which she always tied back, only for stubborn strands to escape and frame her round face. Anything but the strength in the way she carried herself, the confidence in her step. Anything but her voice, raspy and full of emotion.

Fuck.

I finished my shower and stepped out, taking a long look at myself in the mirror. For a moment, I wondered if someone—definitely not Ellie—might find me attractive too. A wave of self-consciousness washed over me, and I quickly dismissed the thought, instinctively hugging myself as I searched for a towel. Once I found one, I dried off and slipped into black underwear and a sports bra before crawling into bed.

I lay there, resisting sleep as thoughts of Ellie crept back into my mind. I tried to push them away, pulling my comforter tightly around me. The warmth was soothing, and I burrowed deeper into the mattress. I let out a deep sigh, feeling a bit more at ease, and gradually, I allowed myself to drift off to sleep.

—

Dozens.

Dozens of people stormed into Jackson with guns, killing mercilessly, without a word or warning. They dragged people—whole families—from their beds and shot them like animals in the streets. My heart pounded in my chest as I frantically searched for my pistol, only to remember that I hadn't been given permission to carry one yet—not by Tommy or Maria.

Tommy. Maria. Ellie.

This can't be how she dies. Not after everything. Not after how far I've fucking come to hear why she did it.

No. Hell no.

I shot to my feet, not thinking twice as I bolted out of the house and headed for Tommy's place. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Screams and cries filled the streets; gunshots tore through the air, rattling my eardrums. Hot tears streamed down my face. I caught a glimpse of a hoodie one of the men was wearing—WLF. My thoughts raced even faster.

WLF. The radio. "We heard that Joel is in Jackson. Not sure about the immune girl, but we're going soon. I need to end this." I remembered those words like it was yesterday. How could I have forgotten? Before I even started my journey to Jackson, I heard that broadcast and knew I needed to act. But when I arrived, I was so mesmerized by how smoothly the town operated that it was as if my memory had been wiped clean when I walked through those gates. Now, people were paying the price with their lives—all because I didn't warn anyone.