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“Put the knife down.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands, friend.”
Ellie could feel the cold edge of the blade press against her throat, but she wasn’t scared, not really. She was fucking pissed. Who the fuck was this dude, grabbing her out of nowhere and using her as some kind of shield?
Her body betrayed her, tensing up and holding still, even though all she wanted to do was fight.
“Fucking coward,” Ellie spat, even though her voice shook without her say.
“Hey,” Joel cautioned, his voice as hard as the steel against her throat, and Ellie was ready to tell him to fuck off for good measure—
But then, she looked into Joel’s eyes.
His anger matched her own, but his was sharpened to a fine point, shaped by years of careful control that Ellie just didn’t have. She expected that – the dude’s main setting seemed to be “pissed off”. But with Joel standing right across from her, pistol unwavering in his hand, she noticed something else on his face.
Fear.
It was there, in the slight lilt of his brows and the tight lines around his eyes. Those eyes, always so carefully shielded was dullness, broke through their mold and exposed his terror, glossy and iron-sharp all at once.
No one else would be able to tell that Joel was terrified, but Ellie could.
Was that how he looked when he beat that guard to death for me?
Ellie’s stomach swooped, and she followed the feeling, giving her body the jolt of adrenaline it needed to finally react. She kicked back between the legs of the man holding her, hard.
Loud cursing, then a sharp sting against her neck as she moved. A gunshot rang out, and the man’s hands fell from where they had been holding her. She could feel the ghost of them as she ran over to Joel’s side, just before she heard a pathetic thud from behind her.
Before Ellie could blink, Joel pushed her behind him, his gun raised for retaliation. After a few long moments, none came. Ellie breathed.
“Are you okay?” Joel spun around, holstering his gun with one hand, the other floating near her face. “Your neck–hold on—”
Surprised, Ellie touched her neck, and when she pulled away, there was blood on her fingertips.
“Well,” she shrugged, “I’m not dead, so it can’t be that—”
A large hand suddenly pressed a piece of soft gauze against her throat with more gentleness than she ever would have expected. Joel stared at her covered wound like he could stitch it back up with just his eyes.
“I’m fine,” Ellie said, trying to sound exasperated, but a tint of real reassurance slid out.
“You’re fine,” Joel whispered, still looking at her wound and not at her, like he was trying to convince himself.
Ellie put her hand over his – just to staunch the bleeding herself, no other reason – and Joel’s head snapped up and he finally looked at her. The moment was fragile and heavy all at once, and Ellie didn’t know what it meant. But she knew it was important.
Ellie made a thumbs up, flashing a dumb grin, and Joel finally chuckled. As a smile slipped out of him for half a second, and Ellie reveled in how safe she felt at that moment.
“Don’t pull that shit again,” Joel warned weakly, before getting more gauze to carefully wrap around her throat.
“Yeah okay, I’ll wait around to get killed next time,” Ellie replied sarcastically, but her chest felt warm.