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You should’ve stopped on the third drink.
But there was a party at the Tipsy Bison tonight—one that consisted of lots and lots of liquor and who were you to deny the magic of Tommy’s bartending?
You were on your fourth, maybe fifth, glass when the buzz started to hit. A laughter perked your ear and you turned to the one responsible for the sound.
Joel Miller.
It pissed you off how a man like that could exist.
The one who joined the commune in the beginning of Winter. The one in a fitted checkered shirt gripping a glass of whiskey in one hand. The one who had gorgeous brown eyes and capable hands. The one with the broadest shoulders. The one who quickly became a favourite to many of Jackson’s residents—always so generous, offering whatever help he can to the community.
The one who got along with everyone just fine. Everyone except you.
You wouldn’t go as far as to say Joel hated you. But you must’ve offended him or something because for the life of you, you can’t seem to pinpoint why he acts that way around you. Minimal conversations and a pat on the back after a good day on patrol or in the gardens was the most you’ll get out of him. Oh, and lots of staring. Like you had put on your shirt backwards or nailed the fence upside-down by accident or something.
You really don’t get it, and it shouldn’t have been a big deal either—if it weren’t for the fact that you were in love with him.
“Fuck,” you groaned, head falling to the table and earning multiple weird stares.
Your friend nudged you on the shoulder. “Hey. You okay?”
“Great,” you muttered. Nothing worse than pining over a man who only saw you as a fleck of dust in their life.
“You should head back home,” she voiced out. “I think you had enough for the night.”
Lifting your head up, you reluctantly agreed. Maybe you did go a little overboard today.
Your friend turned towards the rest of the group and asked if anyone could take you home. Before you even had the chance to refuse, not wanting to ruin the fun for anyone here, the scrapping of a chair was heard before a voice responded with, “I’ll take her. Was about to call it a night anyways.”
You swallowed hard. Are you kidding?
When the both of you exited the establishment, you stepped away from him. “M’fine,” you slurred out, holding up your arms. “See? I can go home just perfectly fin—” You didn’t even finish your sentence, stumbling over nothing just after a few small steps. Joel reached out just in time, saving you from a trip to the doctor’s for a broken nose.
He gruffed at your clumsiness before he offered his arm. “Here,” he said, extending it towards you. “Hold onto it.”
Taking a deep breath and swallowing all your embarrassment, you cautiously took it.
Why did your place have to be so damn far from the Tipsy Bison?
After a while, Joel stopped. “This ain’t gonna work,” he stated, before removing himself from you. You frowned, confusion evident in your eyes. He was the one who offered his arm in the first place. Before you could even question him, he was already bending down in front of you, one knee on the pavement before looking over his shoulder. “Get on.”
Oh.
After some nagging from him, you finally hopped onto his back. Your cheeks were on fire. Maybe it’s from the lingering heat of the summer sun, maybe it’s from the alcohol, but mostly, it’s your beating heart. And when he tightened his arms around your legs so you don’t slip, you couldn't help but pout as you think about the cruelty of having to love him in silence the entire summer.
Joel slowly made his way to your house as you rested your head into the nape of his neck. When your friend asked someone to take you home, he shot up from his seat before anyone could even offer. Hopefully it wasn’t too obvious, but he could already hear Tommy’s teasing. He didn’t miss the smug smile on your friend’s face either. You started to mumble incoherent sentences into his ear and he tried his best to stifle his laughter.
When you arrived, he placed you back on your feet. “Keys?”
“Here,” you hummed, jutting your hip out slightly. “Back pocket.”
Joel's eyes widened. “Christ,” he mumbled under his breath. Yet, there was an amused smile on his face when he reached in and pulled them out.
When the both of you entered, he noticed that your layout was almost exactly the same as his own place, making it easier for him to lead you to your bedroom.
You stopped in your steps in the hallway. “What’s wrong?” he asked, eyes doing a quick glance over you.
Following your pointed finger, Joel promptly understood and led you to the bathroom.
There’s a lot of things he could be doing tonight—this being the last thing in the world. But strangely, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Rubbing soothing circles on your back as you empty all the contents of tonight into the toilet, he found it oddly domestic, feeding his protective side that already exists for you.
When you finished, you sighed. “I’m such a goddamn mess,” you uttered. “M’sorry.”
“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” he answered.
He led you back to your bedroom and when you were finally tucked into the comforts of your bed, you melted into the mattress, minutes away from knocking out. “You can’t do that,” you mumbled tiredly. You’d rather have him treat you like he usually does, at least then, you’d have a reason to squash this growing feeling inside of you. Now, you just wanted him even more.
Joel frowned, “Do what?”
“All of this. Be kind to me,” you said, eyes fluttering shut from the exhaustion of tonight’s events. “Because…” you dragged on, the unconscious part of your brain now taking over. “Because if you do, I’m going to fall even more in love with you.”
Joel thought he heard wrong. He did have quite a few drinks tonight. There’s no way you would like someone like hi—
“I’m in love with you,” you hummed.
Then he froze, your words finally catching up to him. “You what?”
“I love you, Joel Miller,” you repeated, then in a final quiet whisper, “Isn’t that the worst thing you ever heard?”
-
You woke up to a splitting headache and immediately regretted your poor decisions. As you walked begrudgingly down the stairs to get yourself some water, the shape of a familiar body made you physically cringe—the memories from last night rushing back. I’m in love with you. I love you, Joel Miller. Jesus fucking Christ. You wanted to run out of your own damn house and never look back.
He met your eyes from the kitchen. “Look,” you sighed, “I’m sorry about last night. You didn’t have to take care of me, but you did. Thank you.” You nicked at your fingernails nervously. “I’m also sorry for what I said.”
“... That you love me?”
You winced, but nod shamefully. “It’s silly, I know. But don’t worry, I’ll get over it. I know you don’t feel the same so I don’t want you to think you owe me anythi—”
He breathed out your name to stop your rambling. “Did you mean what you said last night?”
You blinked. “Um… Yeah.”
“I—” he started and paused, avoiding your eyes. “I’m not good at this.” Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I get nervous around you. I know I’m not the best at expressin’ my feelings through words, but I like you too darlin’. Why do you think I always ask Tommy to switch patrol shifts with me? Ask to be placed in the gardens? It’s so I could be with you.”
You must’ve been dreaming. Joel had wanted to spend those seconds, minutes and hours with you. Did you seriously read his signs wrong the whole time?
“You mean it?”
“Yeah, I do. Loved you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you,” he confessed, a suggestion of a smile touching his lips. “Now ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?”
A smile curled up your face. You had a feeling this was going to be a start to many beautiful summers with him.