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pesterloglog · 11 months ago

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Aranea Serket, John Egbert, Vriska Serket

Act 6, page 5982-6008

ARANEA: Anyway, where was I?

JOHN: the heroine story ends and the villain story begins.

JOHN: i think...

ARANEA: Yes, that's right.

ARANEA: It is with the predomin8tion of her son that our heroine's story ends, and the story of our villain 8egins.

ARANEA: 8ut as we all know, 8eginnings are not always so easy to pinpoint in paradox space.

ARANEA: One could say his story 8egan the day he claimed immortality. Or the moment his 8eing was inexplica8ly confined to a juju, allowing him access to any realm in which his vessel would capriciously materialize.

ARANEA: 8ut for the sake of linearity, we may as well say his story 8egan the day he and his sister hatched.

ARANEA: When a cheru8 hatches, the two undeveloped personalities mingle together in the same 8ody. There is not yet a clear division 8etween the two.

ARANEA: It will then consume the egg shell for the vital nutrients it contains. The sugary snack is irresisti8le to the starving wiggler.

ARANEA: Once it finishes its first meal, the two personalities will 8e pulled apart for good, and the child will pup8.

ARANEA: The two halves then 8egin vacill8ting with their sleep cycles, as I descri8ed.

ARANEA: As you might expect, the female child was as cheerful and friendly as could 8e.

ARANEA: She took after her mother in every way. At least, the way her mother used to 8e, long 8efore she was hardened 8y centuries of isol8tion and o8sessive pursuit of justice.

ARANEA: And to just as little surprise, the male child was an insuffera8le 8rat.

ARANEA: It is just as well that cheru8 parents a8andon their offspring. Raising such a child 8y the familial standards of any race would 8e a monumental challenge.

ARANEA: Nevertheless, it would seem there were those who tried.

ARANEA: Details in my research suggest our villain had a num8er of acolytes oper8ting in the shadows, preparing for his arrival.

ARANEA: We will pro8a8ly never know who these scurrilous conspir8tors were. 8ut it is evident that at some point the cheru8 was locked in a room, either out of exasper8tion, or for its own good, until it was old enough to enter the session.

ARANEA: The children were left with everything a young cheru8 could ever want. Meat, candy, computers, a lifetime supply of special stardust, and of course their precious jujus.

ARANEA: The acolytes had clearly gone to gr8 lengths to harvest such items from all over the cosmos, so they could lavish their young master with gifts.

ARANEA: They may have 8een prisoners, yes. 8ut if you ask me, these children were very spoiled.

ARANEA: While the female was preparing for a colla8or8tive approach to the game, the male was plotting furiously against her. He never had any intention of working with her.

ARANEA: As far as he was concerned, the game was his and his alone to conquer.

ARANEA: One day, he put his plan into motion. He had his sister's dream self assassin8ted on Prospit.

ARANEA: The next time she went to sleep, she would never wake up again. When her 8rother woke up, he 8ecame the sole occupant of the 8ody.

ARANEA: He then freed himself from his chains, and launched the session 8y himself.

ARANEA: 8ut this game was never meant to 8e played solo.

ARANEA: Its format is inherently cooper8tive. The diversity of players, the com8in8tion of their efforts and aspects, this is what awakens the true cre8tive potential of the game. Without them, a session will wither and die.

ARANEA: If one enters alone, it completely alters the nature of the game. It changes its purpose.

ARANEA: For a solo player, a challenging quest 8ecomes an insurmounta8le one. A reward of infinite promise 8ecomes a 8oon far more sinister.

ARANEA: The gauntlet which the player must overcome is seemingly designed to 8e impossi8le. For all intents and purposes, it is not actually a game at all. It is a death sentence for any player foolish enough to accept the challenge.

ARANEA: 8ut it 8ears repeating.

ARANEA: This was very special cheru8.

ARANEA: He entered what is called a dead session.

ARANEA: This qualifies as 8oth a null and void session, 8ut is even less than either of those. Compared to a typical session, it is almost unrecogniza8le.

ARANEA: 8efore the game 8egins, Skaia is 8lotted out with a dark layer of clouds. Its light is extinguished for good.

ARANEA: There is no planet w8ting for the player in the medium.

ARANEA: So instead, he 8rought it with him.

ARANEA: 8ut when he arrived, there was no heroic journey for him to em8ark on.

ARANEA: There was nothing. No sprite, no consorts, no underlings.

ARANEA: The land had no name.

ARANEA: Those things all needed to 8e unlocked.

ARANEA: To unlock his true quest, he was forced to undergo a series of excruci8tingly tedious trials.

ARANEA: Only then would the way to the planet's core 8e revealed. There, he would consult with the most monstrous denizen of all.

ARANEA: And while such trials might discourage most players from even trying, our villain's response was quite the contrary.

ARANEA: He was only em8oldened 8y the mind num8ing chores. He took to them with gusto, as if performing them out of spite.

ARANEA: With perseverance, he found the final door and unlocked it.

ARANEA: W8ting for him on the other side was a terri8le creature named Yalda8aoth.

ARANEA: His denizen would allow him a 8rief audience. One just long enough for him to make The Choice.

ARANEA: No denizen has ever 8een mistaken for pleasant company. 8ut the self-proclaimed god of all monsters is notoriously inhospita8le to his players.

ARANEA: His choices are known for their wild extremes.

ARANEA: And to this player, in this session, he offered his most extreme choice of all.

ARANEA: It was the choice 8etween a path of conquest, and a path of sacrifice.

ARANEA: 8ut this is putting it lightly.

ARANEA: In a tongue only his player could understand, he descri8ed what the path of the martyr entailed.

ARANEA: In short, it involved nothing.

ARANEA: The player chooses to walk away from the tempt8tion of power. To surrender all am8ition, and to welcome death.

ARANEA: In exchange for this pledge comes a promise. The player's sacrifice is assured to 8enefit all who will ever live.

ARANEA: In death, the player would later 8e in the position to help 8ring an end to a force of unfathoma8le evil and destruction.

ARANEA: A force which was unleashed, for instance, 8y someone who once opted for the other choice.

ARANEA: Yalda8aoth then descri8ed what it meant to choose the path of the conqueror.

ARANEA: It was a path for a more active player, to 8e sure. The player's mettle as a conquering force would 8e tested directly, and repeatedly.

ARANEA: One 8y one, he would have to conquer and destroy a num8er of planets spawned for him in the session. Each would 8e more difficult than the last.

ARANEA: After destroying them all, his true land would 8ecome unlocked.

ARANEA: He would then return to face his denizen again, and defeat him in com8at.

ARANEA: If successful, his reward would 8e unprecedented.

ARANEA: He would receive the 8oon of unconditional immortality, where resurrection would not 8e linked with the just or heroic nature of death.

ARANEA: It is unclear how this 8oon would 8e awarded, since to my knowledge it is 8eyond even the a8ility of a denizen to allow this.

ARANEA: 8ut through whatever mechanism the 8oon is 8estowed, immortality is only the 8eginning.

ARANEA: The player is somehow also im8ued with a limitless supply of power. Enough to destroy anything he wanted, for as long as he wanted.

ARANEA: And knowing the villain of our story, anything he wanted would be everything. And as long as he wanted would be forever.

ARANEA: Yes, knowing our villain, the choice he would make is quite clear.

ARANEA: Knowing him, in fact, proves it could hardly 8e considered a choice at all.

ARANEA: It was at this point the real game would 8egin.

ARANEA: Skaia would undergo a dramatic transform8tion, 8ecoming even darker and heavier.

ARANEA: Soon it would 8ecome a very massive solid sphere. It would 8egin to gener8 heat within due to rising density.

ARANEA: The surface would 8egin to crack.

ARANEA: The resulting explosion is known as the First 8r8k.

ARANEA: From the primordial 8last would emerge fifteen planets for the player to conquer.

ARANEA: They would scatter and ricochet at high velocity 8efore settling into or8it in the medium.

ARANEA: The 8r8k is a very violent phenomenon though. Not all planets will necessarily clear the 8last 8efore the Skaian de8ris settles into its final st8.

ARANEA: The vast amount of resulting matter then collapses into a 8lack hole.

ARANEA: Its gravit8tional pull is tremendous. Any o8ject within range will 8e sucked in and destroyed.

ARANEA: Those planets which settle into or8it will 8e safe, for the time 8eing.

ARANEA: 8ut in the case of our villain's session, three of the planets did not make it and fell 8ack into the hole.

ARANEA: This was a very lucky 8r8k for him!

ARANEA: It meant that he would only have to conquer twelve planets instead.

ARANEA: This 8it of good fortune could very well have 8een the difference which allowed him to overcome a nearly impossi8le challenge.

ARANEA: His task was to destroy all of these planets in order, each within a time allowance that gets shorter with every planet.

ARANEA: To destroy a planet, first it must 8e conquered.

ARANEA: He would have to overcome all forces of resistance on the planet, and ultim8tely defeat whatever powerful underling ruled there.

ARANEA: Then, much like he did to unlock the quest in the first place, he would have to travel to the planet's core.

ARANEA: There he would retrieve a 8om8, and return to the surface.

ARANEA: If he did not accomplish this in time, the 8om8 would deton8 in the core, and the game would 8e lost automatically.

ARANEA: The 8om8 is not powerful enough to destroy the planet alone.

ARANEA: In fact, its purpose is not to damage the planet at all, 8ut to move it.

ARANEA: So he must 8ring it to a design8ted loc8tion on the surface.

ARANEA: When it explodes, the planet will 8e knocked out of or8it, and sucked into the hole.

ARANEA: Of course he must make sure he has moved on to the next planet 8efore this happens!

ARANEA: He repeats this process for each planet until they are all gone.

ARANEA: There is one caveat though. He must skip the eighth planet.

ARANEA: If he sinks that one 8efore any of the others, it will result in the destruction of the entire session.

ARANEA: Thus it must 8e the final planet he conquers.

ARANEA: Upon destroying the eighth planet, his true land will reveal itself.

ARANEA: The dead planet will come to life, and there he must prepare for 8attle with his denizen.

ARANEA: He may sharpen his com8at skills, craft new weaponry, anything he can do to improve his chances against a very powerful endgame foe.

ARANEA: Fortun8tely for him, he would not have to face the monster alone.

ARANEA: 8y then he will have accumul8ted a party of loyal minions.

ARANEA: With each planet he destroys, he will 8e awarded a new leprechaun follower.

ARANEA: Even if a planet was destroyed in the 8r8k, he will still 8e awarded that planet's leprechaun upon destroying the planet preceding it. Sort of like a two for one deal!

JOHN: wait.

JOHN: leprechauns??

ARANEA: Yes, John!

ARANEA: I'm delighted to see you have pounced on what is clearly the most interesting part of the story thus far.

ARANEA: Leprechauns are a fascin8ting mythical race, although there is some dispute among scholars as to whether they are actually a 8reed of gnome.

JOHN: ...

ARANEA: I can't say I 8lame you for 8eing speechless. There are no dou8t hundreds of questions swirling in your head at once a8out these wonderful creatures.

ARANEA: Where do I even 8egin? You must forgive me, I find it very difficult to resist going on at length a8out them. I just think they are so gr8.

ARANEA: For instance, I can and have given lectures for weeks at a time on their marvelous and widely varying magical a8ilities.

ARANEA: More intriguing yet would 8e any medium-to-longform harangue on the topic of their culture and customs, most of which revolve around luck.

ARANEA: 8ut most captiv8ting of all, and the su8ject upon which I will now assiduously expound, would 8e the positively scintill8ting su8ject of leprechaun romance.

ARANEA: The pro8lem is that when the su8ject of leprechaun romance is 8roached, our overly o8essive troll intellects instantly assume the most ingrati8ting posture of admir8tion imagina8le.

ARANEA: Which makes it hard! Hard to give it proper academic focus I mean, 8ecause of how gr8 it is.

ARANEA: 8ut we will do our 8est to understand regardless.

ARANEA: Trolls have only four forms of romance. And though we consider it a complic8ted su8ject, spanning a wide range of emotions, social conventions, and implic8tions for reproduction, it is ultim8tely a superficial slice of what leprechauns consider the full 8ody of romantic experience. Our concept of romance, in spite of its capacity to fill our art and literature and to rule our individual destinies like little else, is still just that. A single, quaternary concept. A concept usually denoted 8y four sym8ols.

ARANEA: <3 <3< <> o8<

ARANEA: Leprechaun romance is more complic8ted than that. Leprechaun romance needs nine sym8ols.

ARANEA: The nine quadrants of leprechaun romance are considera8ly more nuanced than our quaint notions of romance, and certainly more alien.

ARANEA: In fact, so conditioned is my own understanding of romance that I can't help 8ut refer to them as quadrants, when in fact they are not quadrants at all! They are referred to as charms.

ARANEA: One of the charms is characterized 8y romantic love, as understood 8y 8oth trolls and humans. 8ut after that, all 8ets are off. There is no division 8etween 8lack or red, concupiscent or conciliatory. Instead their charms comprise a spectral continuum of more su8tly varying types of relationships, most of which are esta8lished in mutual chicanery, such as the exchange of pranks, coy riddles, slapstick shenanigans, and games of chance. Furthermore, a pair of leprechauns is not limited to a single charm. A relationship may 8e defined 8y multiple charms at once! In fact, some of the most interesting relationships arise from exotic charm com8in8tions. A sta8le relationship consisting of three or more charms is called a trove. These advanced relationships are often viewed as the ideal end result for a romance, much the way certain pairing rituals are for humans.

ARANEA: No charm is specifically tied to procre8tion, though any type of relationship could 8egin waxing concupiscent if lady luck should so decide. Certain charm com8in8tions are known to 8e more conducive to fertility than others. If the leprechaun pair has 8een so 8lessed, they will 8egin an ela8orate coupling procedure culmin8ting in a lively m8ting jig. The jigs are specific to the charms of course, similar to how different kinds of music lend themselves to various styles of dance.

ARANEA: While their romance is endlessly captiv8ting, leprechaun reproduction may 8e the most interesting su8ject of all. Particularly from a perspective of detailed anatomical study, which I will get to shortly. 8ut first it 8ears pointing out that while for humans reproductive relationships are exclusively heterosexual, and for trolls they are 8isexual, for leprechauns they-

VRISKA: WOW, WHAT A STORY!!!!!!!!

ARANEA: 8ut I wasn't fin-

VRISKA: WASN'T THAT STORY GR8 EVERYONE?

VRISKA: WOW!!!!!!!!

ARANEA: Hmm.

ARANEA: You really liked it that much, Vriska?

VRISKA: Hell yeah!

VRISKA: Oh my god. That leprechaun stuff? Soooooooo good.

VRISKA: Right guys?

ARANEA: Wow. Well, I would 8e happy to continue then, if you-

VRISKA: Mindfang, have I told you how gr8 it's 8een to get to know each other, and team up on adventures and stuff?

VRISKA: I really feel like you've helped me get in touch with my ancestral roots. Mainly as a kickass storyteller.

VRISKA: It was like this whole part of my personality I was never aware of. Like the part that's compelled to just outright explain tons of really interesting things to people, while sparing no detail whatsoever.

VRISKA: It's made me feel a lot closer to understanding my aspect, as well as closer to you. So I just wanted to say, thanks!

ARANEA: Aw, you're welcome!

ARANEA: I feel the exact same way a8out my time with you.

ARANEA: You have really helped me get in touch with the true pir8 within. I saw in you the adventurous spirit I always wished I could 8e.

ARANEA: You helped me finally understand the virtue in rationalizing questiona8le decisions, and 8ehaving unscrupulously for the gr8ter good!

VRISKA: Haha, stop! You're going to make me start tearing up.

VRISKA: Get over here and give me a hug, alpha sister.

ARANEA: ::::)

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farmerlarrry · 1 year ago

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Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter fourteen | chapter thirteen| read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

a/n: Short–er chapter than usual, but the last few larger chapters completely turned my brain into mush lol and needed a little bit of fluff to cleanse my palate. The last bit was heavily inspired by the song “Wondering Why” by The Red Clay Strays, so shout out to all the people on tiktok for saying this is the perfect song to slow dance to, ily! I hope you are all having a lovely start to December! Stay safe!! :)

word count: 5982

if you want to be notified when I post new chapters, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and put on notifications! If you'd rather be tagged, just let me know.

Chapter Fifteen

Neither you nor Joel spoke of that night in the weeks that followed. Although left unspoken, what almost happened never left your thoughts. Every waking moment, whether you were with Joel or not, it consumed every part of you, oftentimes leaving you wondering if you’d ever get a chance like that again. You were sure it consumed Joel as well. He was still the same man as before, but something very subtly changed. The way he treats you and looks at you– something was different behind those complex eyes, something deep down. It was almost as if he’d gone soft on you, but was desperately trying to hide the fact, probably a way to try and protect himself. If that was the case, you understood why.

There was a small part of you that felt embarrassed about that night, your feelings had been put on full display, something that you didn’t think Joel was aware of up until that point. His had been too, which made you wonder if he was embarrassed about it as well– if he regretted revealing that part of him–and perhaps that’s why nothing had been said by him. Every time that thought resurfaced, it nearly sent you into a panic.

You kept having to reassure yourself, knowing him, if he had regretted it, things would not have stayed so… normal between the two of you. Joel still stops by your place in the morning, the two of you sharing breakfast and coffee before heading out for patrol. If anything, the two of you began spending more time together. On the nights you aren’t at Charles’, you and Joel spend together. Tommy would sometimes join, but when Nessa found out about it all of a sudden she needed Tommy home more.

Although you told yourself that you’d stop drinking, it was the one thing you and Joel often did together. Wake up, patrol, drink… you had a nearly permanent headache, but for you, it was a small price to pay. You were finally content with the life you’ve created, even happy at times.

James had been avoiding you since that day too. You truly intended to talk to him, not that what you’d say would make things any better, but you at least owed that to him; an explanation. Of the many times you tried, he’d either leave as soon as you were within a 20-foot radius of him and the times you caught him off guard, he’d simply walk away without a word or look directed at you. You missed your chance to talk to James, missed the opportunity when it actually counted, and would come off as genuine.

You thought of maybe writing him a letter, leaving it on his doorstep or with Charles to pass it on to him– that way you’d know for certain he got it, whether he ended up reading it or ripping it to shreds; at least you would know that you tried. Ultimately, the thought seemed insincere and cringe, so you decided just to let things be.

The remnants of your actions haunted you enough as it is. Between the dirty looks you received from Heather and Aimee, the cold shoulder treatment you received from Nessa, and Dottie constantly asking why you and James never come over together anymore– you felt like all that was punishment enough.

“Why don’t you and James ever come over together anymore,” Dottie often asked some variation of this question crossing her arms and furrowing her brows.

With Charles grimacing in the background, pretending as if he doesn’t hear, you’d return Dott’s curiosity with your own variation of answers– our schedules don’t line up anymore, he’s busy tonight, I was busy with… You wondered if she pressed James about it every time he came over, wondering what he said in response.

Your actions followed you wherever you went, the only time you had real peace was when you were either alone at home, or when you were out on patrol with Joel with no one else around. The constant stares you received from the other guards around your age left you wondering who had been running their mouths and how much of it was actually the truth.

Jackson reminded you much of the small town you were from, at least from what little you remember of it. The sense of a close-knit community, for the most part, you could rely on each other, but when it came to the gossip… Everyone took what they heard as fact and had no issues spreading it around.

–

The night after you and Charles spoke in the isolated corner of Jackson BBQ, you went over to his house for dinner as planned. A nervousness fisted your stomach, making it twist and turn with every hesitant step you took toward his house. You wondered if James would be there; if Charles had told him of your company that night–

Unsurprisingly, James had not come. You weren’t quite sure if you were relieved by this or if some part of you had wished had shown up.

After the excitement of your company had settled and Dottie and Henry went to sleep, you and Charles sat in his study like the two of you used to do. Most of the time spent had been in silence, but you knew Charles had something to say. His face clearly indicated he was biting his tongue, forcing himself to swallow whatever words that had been filling his mouth, remaining unspoken.

“James is a good boy, you know,” He finally spoke, his words coming out calm but a feeling of heat behind them lingered after the room returned to silence. You let out a huff of air. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

All you could do was nod; a nod with no meaning other than you didn’t want to leave what he said unacknowledged. What you really wanted to do at the moment was roll your eyes, and if it had been anyone other than Charles initiating this conversation, perhaps you would have.

“And,” His voice shook as if he was unsure whether to continue, smacking his lips and taking a moment to ponder on his thoughts. You watched him carefully out of the corner of your eye, your body slumped in the firm sofa chair. You tapped your fingers along your thigh as you waited for him to continue. “Joel, he’s–”

At the sound of his name, you shot up from out of your chair before he could finish, beginning to take long strides toward the front door. Whatever he was going to say about Joel, you didn’t want to hear it. You endured the nasty comments from everyone too often, biting your tongue when all you wanted to do was shoot something nasty back at them. You wouldn’t hear it from Charles.

As you opened the door, Charles came up from behind you, pushing his palm against the door causing it to slam shut. The sound vibrated through the house leaving Charles cringing and eyeing the children’s bedrooms. Although your hand remained on the doorknob, you hadn’t tried to open it again, standing still while your breathing became messy, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Joel’s a fine man too,” Charles’ voice was dark as he spoke, but he was quick to release the words. His statement slightly caught you off guard, forcing you to face him slowly. You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye and instead settled on staring at his shoes. “A lot of people here don’t get him and that’s– it is what it is, but he's a good man. He cares and a lot of people don’t nowadays.”

You felt as if you were stripped bare, your mind and soul naked and completely vulnerable. All you could do was stare at the ground, how the shadow of Charles’ shoes met the raw grain of the wood and the gaps between each plank leading to an abyss of darkness. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, your shoulders tensing up to the point of pain.

“Why are you telling me this?” Your voice was small. Putting his arm on your shoulder, Charles guided you over to the couch. The two of you took a seat in unison.

“James told me his… suspicious the day Joel came back, and then you were wearing Joel’s shirt at dinner– let me finish,” His voice was calm, soothing your panic. You tried to butt in, demanding to know whatever James told him, but Charles made you listen. “As I told you before, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I’ll offer you my thoughts, you can take them as they are.”

Taking a moment to calm yourself, you nodded, urging him to continue. In, out, in… you guided yourself, the stuffy warm air barely doing anything to ease your breathing.

“Regardless of going about it the wrong way, you’re allowed to feel that way– you aren’t… you don’t belong to anyone,” He finally spoke, the reassurance running through you like a sip of cold water on a hot summer day.

“I fucked up Charles,” You stated simply. “I should’ve– I should have actually talked to James, but Joel came back and– and–” You shook your head, coming to a loss for words, “I didn’t know if Joel would feel the same, and talking about it to anyone was just too much. I– I don’t know. I thought I liked James, I really did, but when I saw Joel– and my heart, I just felt–”

The words rushed out of your mouth, you weren’t sure if any of it made sense. Charles nodded as he listened, though you weren’t sure he quite understood. You shrugged to signal you were out of words, left with nothing else to say as your breathing turned to shallow sharp inhales. Charles grabbed your hand, holding it in his, and ran soft strokes along your knuckles. You stared at your conjoined hands as he continued, it reminded you of your father, and how he used to calm you when you were in a panic.

“Does Joel feel the same way?” Charles’ voice was monotonous when he asked. Forcing yourself to look up at him, you swallowed against the lump in your throat.

“Wha– what?” You narrowed your eyes at him, confused. Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest.

“You said you didn’t know if Joel would feel the same way,” he quickly responded, a hint of confusion gleaming in his eyes.

You brought in your bottom lip tugging on it continuously between your teeth as flashbacks from the previous night poured in. You hadn’t realized your wording, you should’ve been more careful.

“I don’t know,” you quickly correct yourself. You weren’t entirely wrong, for all you knew last night was just… you let out a soft sigh at your own thoughts. “I don’t know if he does.”

A silence fell between the two of you and you became too aware of the soft ticking of the wall clock. Tick, tick, tick. It sounded loud in your ears, your eardrums seizing on each tick.

“Let me talk to James, okay?” he finally said. A weight instantly released from your tense shoulders, the lingering headache disappearing in an instant. Coward, a voice whispered to you, but you ignored it–at least tried to ignore it.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” A heat washed over your face, your body folding in on itself, “about Joel, that is.”

–

On this particular night, after a long day’s journey to an abandoned ranch and back, you and Joel found yourselves at The Tipsy Bison, tucked in the corner taking in drink after drink and going back and forth between playing billiards and darts.

The bartender for the night apparently was not very happy with how rowdy the two of you became over who won and who lost as well as how riled up you made some of the other guests for the night, to which he sent over Nora– out of everyone, her? You rolled your eyes, knowing she would likely report this back to James– to tell you it was time to wrap things up and go elsewhere.

“Yours or mine?” Joel asked without fully clarifying what he meant, he knew you would know what he was asking. You jogged the few feet that separated the two of you, nearly tripping over your own feet before slowing down as he pushed against the door with his back and held it open for you.

You took a moment to think as you stumbled out onto the porch, your hand lightly finding his wrist to grab onto for a short moment to keep you steady. He waited for your answer, slowly taking a few steps down, his torso angled towards you. You were humming softly to yourself as you sort through your thoughts, which were a blur even to you given your state.

“Probably yours, because–” you started to say but stopped yourself mid-sentence. Joel completely turned his body to face you, now slowly walking backward in front of you. His face twisted in confusion. “Actually, I know a place we can go to.”

Joel cocked his head waiting for you to reveal the location.

The abandoned building.

–

The entire walk you were hoping to whatever higher power there was that the others weren’t there. You didn’t see them at the bar so that didn’t leave many other places they could be. You knew that Drew and James were both due to go out for an overnight run sometime this week to Teton Valley, but that still left Heather, Aimee, and Nessa unaccounted for. They wouldn’t go out there, not without James or Drew, you kept telling yourself–reassuring yourself–of the fact that the three girls were a bit wary of how far away the building was from the main part of the community, regardless of the safety each guard ensured as a priority.

It wasn’t a quick walk by any means. You had to walk past the cemetery and greenhouses to where a field lay bare. In recent months, Maria has tasked some of the community members to turn half of it into more farmland and the other half left to expand the greenhouses, but the work efforts have been slow, especially with the urgent help with harvesting.

Past the field where the trees stand dense, there is a pathway, easily missed if you don’t know what you’re looking for. That pathway leads to the building and about a hundred yards past the building was the fencing that kept Jackson contained.

Although it was hidden away from the community and not used for anything in particular, many of the guards as well as Maria and Tommy knew about it. No one ever explicitly said not to go to it, but many of those who knew about it seem to forget about it which is how it became the go to hang out spot for you and the others. It offered a sense of secrecy with safety and was far enough from the main parts of Jackson where you never had to worry about being too loud.

The darkness crawled at your skin and a feeling of being watched hovered around you which seemed to help you sober up. Joel was behind you, only a few feet separating you from him. Occasionally you’d peer over your shoulder, mainly to make sure he was still there, in case you needed him for some reason. You could tell, even in the darkness, he was a bit hesitant about following you.

“Where’re we goin’?” Joel asked for the fifth time as you passed the cemetery, each time he asked his tone became less and less patient. Regardless of his tone, the sound of his voice sent a calming effect to run its course through your body, settling your churning insides.

“You don’t like surprises huh?” A faint smile formed as the breathy words came out of your mouth. It amused you to see him like this; fidgety like he had ants in his pants.

“No, not–” His voice conveyed to you that he was very clearly annoyed. You let out an overdramatic sigh which immediately shut him up.

“You’re no fun,” You turned your body to look at him, narrowing your eyes at him as you stopped walking. He only stopped when there was about a foot separating the two of you.

“Fun enough for you to spend your nights with me ‘parently,” he spat back almost immediately, a bit of humor and amusement lingering in his tone. As much as you wanted to fire back at him, you ignored his comment and started to slowly continue down the field. You could almost make out the details of the trees even in the darkness, meaning you were almost there.

“Remember how I told you I would hang out with Nessa and her friends?” he nodded, falling into step right next to you. You paused before continuing, “I’m taking you to where we used to go.”

“And if they’re there?” The words rushed out of his mouth. The thought made a sense of anxiety fill your chest.

“I think Drew and James are gone, but if the other three are there, then… we’ll find somewhere else to go.” You tried to steady your voice as you spoke. The thought of them seeing the two of you together, especially seeing you and Joel go to a place that’s so… secluded, did not settle well in your gut.

When Joel didn’t answer, you looked up at his face. His lips were set in a thin, tight line and his eyes were hardened, locked on the gravel crunching beneath his boots with each heavy step. You pinned your eyebrows together, is he anxious? Anxious that they will be there, that they’ll see us, or anxious that it will just be us?

You took one step to the side closer to him and gently knocked your elbow against Joel’s arm, catching his attention. His eyes widened as if he had been lost in some sort of mind-consuming thought.

“Okay?” You asked, desperate for some sort of reassurance that he was okay and this was okay.

He gave you a single nod, his body remaining tense.

–

The lights weren’t on when you arrived at the crumbling building, a shadow of blackness surrounded it. Regardless of the fact, you still slowly peeked your head inside to make sure no one had been in there before trying the switch to illuminate the dark room. Even though they didn’t come on, you still flipped the switch a few more times, desperately hoping you wouldn’t have to go in blind. The building was relatively safe, but the dark still gave you the chills–the thought of something hiding, waiting to grab you– the fear still haunted you.

You let out a loud sigh.

“The generator is a bit finicky,” you said plainly. The many memories of Drew kicking at it and cursing under his breath immediately resurfaced.

“Sure it’s safe?” he asked as he poked his head past the threshold of the door. Joel gently grabbed onto your bicep as he continued to survey the vast darkness of the building. His concern provoked a small breathy laugh from you.

“Let’s hope,” you responded, half serious. Joel let out a throaty hum, not coming off as too enthusiastic.

Joel followed closely behind you as you entered.

–

You finally managed to get the generator that James somehow managed to get many moons ago to turn on and went around to the various outlets to plug in the string lights. Joel slowly walked around the perimeter of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, running his eyes along the walls filled with posters and pictures the gang had once put up, looking at the furniture all of you managed to take from the donation center somehow unnoticed or from the few homes that remained unoccupied. Though you were never on the best terms with most of them, a lot of memories had been created in this very room–times of peace and ease. Showing him this place must have felt almost as vulnerable as it must have felt for him showing you his spot. An ache began to develop deep in your chest. You let out a deep sigh, letting the ache escape into the air.

His eyes lingered for a good while on a section of the wall that had been solely dedicated to the Polaroid pictures that had been taken on the nights spent here. Bringing his fingers up to one that was stuck at an angle beneath another picture, he pulled it loose. From your quick glance across the room, you didn’t have to be next to him to know that it was the picture of you and James.

James had both of his hands covering your eyes, a wide grin spread across his face. You had your hands wrapped around his wrists, your knuckles white as you tried to tear them away from your face. The longer you thought about it, you could have sworn you could hear yours and James’ overlapping giggles, Nessa yelling out ‘cheese’ before pressing down the shutter button. The ache formed once again, this time spreading from your chest to the pit of your stomach.

Without saying anything, barely provoking any sort of reaction from him, Joel turned and set it down on one of the side tables. As the picture left the tips of his fingers, his attention was immediately shifted elsewhere. Joel picked up one of the records from the stack piled on one of the small side tables, taking a seat on the worn and faded brown couch.

The distraction allowed you to swiftly sweep past the table, picking up the photo and slipping it into your back pocket to be discarded eventually.

You came up to Joel’s side. Using the back of the wooden chair next to him to keep you stable, you bent over the side of the couch to the corner where the last string of light’s plug hung free from the outlet. The heat of his body clung to the back of your cold limbs and you leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. Joel cleared his throat awkwardly, the sound startling you and causing you to fumble the plug, making it fall behind the couch.

‘Sorry,” your voice was muffled as you reached your hand into the darkness, feeling around for the plug. A heat began to burn in your cheeks, spreading down to your chest, as you realized why Joel cleared his throat. You practically pinned him against the edge of the couch with your ass in his face.

You began to move faster, your fingers becoming tangled with the cord as you pushed it firmly into the plug. A small wheeze came from him as you straightened yourself, retreating a step back.

“Sorry,” The words were now barely above a whisper. You raised your eyebrows, widening your eyes at him as you try to remain as neutral as possible. His eyebrows twitched as he finally brought himself to look up at you. You could have sworn his eyes glazed over the entirety of your body before eventually meeting your eyes.

“Where’d you get these?” His voice was tight, guilty sounding as he changed the subject.

“Drew gets them when he goes into the cities outside of Jackson,” you responded, taking one step closer towards Joel, peering around his arm in the narrow space at the record he had been holding onto. “Most of them aren’t very good, but he picks up what he can find– I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

He nodded very subtly, pinning his brows together as he flipped the record over, looking at the songs listed on the backside.

“And the player?” He questioned further. Joel must have heard the hitch in your breath with the look he gave you in return to which you turned on your heel, heading toward the couch sitting opposite from where Joel was.

“It was James’ father’s at one point,” You responded dryly, slightly cringing as you remembered how serious James was the night he brought it, making sure everyone– especially Drew– knew if it broke, there would be serious consequences. Joel said nothing in response, just going back to sifting through the various records.

The vibe completely changed from the time you left the bar to now–an odd sense of intimacy lingered heavily in the room. You needed a drink, just one to shake off this sudden awareness.

Your eyes swept the room, landing on the old dented filing cabinet tucked next to the door. It was where the group kept all the alcohol each of you had been able to scrounge up as well as the collection of unmatching glasses that sat upon a tea cloth on the top. The filing cabinet was simply for safekeeping, you were desperately hoping that it hadn’t been emptied since the last time you were there.

The broken handle was cold on your fingertips as you pulled on it. The drawer did not budge and you rolled your eyes, fully taking a seat on the ground so the top drawer was now eye level. You curse softly under your breath. Of course one of them would keep it locked up– probably Drew… greedy bastard, you thought.

You never noticed anyone locking it before, but then again, you had never paid that close attention–you didn’t need to. Running your fingers over the metal latches and then over the face of the lock, you pinned your eyebrows together. You’ve worked with this kind of lock many times before when you were still out on your own. They weren’t complicated locks, low security if anything due to them having a universal one-pronged key amongst this type.

Without any further thought, you pulled the small knife out of your pocket and flipped it open, ramming the tip into the keyhole. If you could just get it at the correct angle, it should just pop open. You didn’t care if the others knew someone had been in here.

With a bit of jiggling, the shackle popped loose causing the corners of your lips to twitch slightly into a smile. Your eyes went wide as you opened the drawer–there was just as much, if not more than the last time you saw it.

Rising back onto your feet, you look over your shoulder back at Joel who was still fully occupied by the record collection. His face was stuck in a deep sense of concentration.

Picking a bottle at random, you turned to face Joel shaking the bottle. The sound of the liquid sloshing against the sides and lapping over itself seemed to catch his attention as he snapped his head up, looking in your direction through his brows.

“Want some?” you offered when he didn’t say anything, jutting the bottle out toward him. He narrowed his eyes, trying to look at the label– contemplating– before shaking his head and returning his attention back to the records. You simply shrugged before turning back around, flipping over one of the various drinking glasses on the top of the cabinet, and began to pour a generous amount.

You kicked your feet at the concrete ground, dust and dirt dancing through the air, as you slowly made your way over to the other couch that sat across from the one Joel was currently settled on. Laying the entire length of your body sideways on the couch and resting your head on the padded armrest, you closed your eyes– just for a moment, you told yourself– holding your drink on your stomach with one hand and the other playing with the edge of one of the cushions where the stuffing began to leak out.

When you opened your eyes, Joel was leaning over, placing one of the many records onto the platter of the player. Gently he let the needle fall onto the edge and pressed the button to turn it on. Music softly filled the room, the sound emitting from the speakers sounded muffled and scratchy, yet comforting and nostalgic.

As Joel returned to his spot, leaning into the back cushion and widening his grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, you caught his attention. Holding his gaze, you sat upright, downing the rest of your drink and resting the glass on the ground.

“What?” He asked as you flashed him a toothy smile, your lips spreading thinly across your face as the corners reached your eyes and the second wave of alcohol hit your bloodstream.

–

The music began to flow through your veins, your body swaying without any coherent thought running through your mind. Spreading your arms out at your sides, you began to spin slowly and your body began to feel weightless; your surroundings and Joel blurring together with each turn. The air running over your skin made goosebumps dance up your arms and you let out a small giggle. You felt so free… so loose… so… happy. You felt like the person you had once been a long, long time ago.

Slowing your spin to a stop, you quickly became dizzy as you came to your senses, your brain struggling to comprehend that you were no longer going in circles. With the alcohol in your system, it made your body’s reaction twice as clumsy. Joel was watching you carefully, a small smile on his face, and appeared to be very amused by you. You began to tumble to the side, the opposite direction of any sort of furniture to stabilize yourself, as your feet tangled together. Joel lunged from his sitting position for you, looping one hand around your back, the other grasping onto your bicep.

“Woah,” The noise came out of you in a breathy whisper as the falling sensation subsided. Joel’s eyes were soft in the dim lighting of the room, the light reflecting off of his dark and ever-tired eyes.

As he helped you back up to the stability of your feet, he kept hold of your shoulders. You could feel his fingers gently but firmly pressing into your skin making your heart skip a few beats. Through your still semi-blurred vision, you make eye contact with Joel, who is steadily holding onto your gaze. His face, complex as usual, leaves you completely in the dark about what might be running through his mind. The look in his eyes took you back to that night.

You softly ran your hands up along his arm until you reached his biceps, hesitating to curl your fingers around them. Dropping your gaze from his, you run your fingers along his worn flannel, the fabric is soft under the tips. All you can focus on at the moment is the feeling of the fabric between your fingers and the warmth that radiates from underneath. Joel has yet to move a muscle since you returned his gesture, though you were almost positive you could hear the beating of his heart– deep and wild.

Slowly moving your eyes along his chest to the skin peaking out where the top few buttons were undone–his chest hair poking through– up along his neck and into his eyes. Something changed from a few moments prior, from early this evening. Your breath hitches as his throat bobs and his tongue darts between his lips.

As you began to part your lips, trying to find any words to say, Joel very slowly ran one of his hands up your back, finding a home at the base of your neck where skin meets hair. Very softly he ran his thumb over your hairline, over and over. He was looking at you, but it felt like his gaze had been deeper– deeper than whatever he saw on the surface.

“I haven’t heard this song in a very long time,” His voice was quiet but hoarse, rattling low. You had to force yourself to swallow, your mouth and throat growing drier by the second.

Before you could muster up a response– even a reaction– Joel gently pulled your head into his chest. You didn’t protest, you would let him do whatever he wanted to you at this moment. His hand lingered at the base of your neck with your ear flush against his chest. Still, he softly ran his finger along your hairline causing a chill to make its way down your spine. Your heart felt as if it were beating outside of your chest and you noticed how deeply and fast Joel’s was beating in unison.

Joel took the lead as the two of you began to sway your bodies in unison, simply shifting your weight between each foot, very slowly turning in a circle. With your arms loosely wrapped around his torso, you began to run the fabric between your index finger and thumb again. This is the moment you’ve been craving since you were left on your own at the beginning of the outbreak– a sense of safety, a sense of companionship, anything other than the loneliness that rotted inside your heart for far too long– always too afraid to admit it, too afraid to get close to anyone for the next day is never promised. Sure, you caved into the intimacy of physical touch, but emotionally… you’ve never let yourself cave into that. But Joel… Joel was different. This was different.

The longer the music went on, transitioning from one song to another, a calmness settled between the two of you, your bodies melting into one another becoming one. You hadn’t dared to move your head, afraid that he’d let go of you entirely if you moved even just a bit; afraid that this moment would end sooner than you desired.

As the record player sputtered to a stop, the music abruptly leaving the room empty and silent, you and Joel remained together, swaying back and forth. Joel’s heartbeat returned to a steady, comforting beat. He flattened his palms against your back as a way to tell you, don’t let go– not yet. So you didn't, you would remain in his arms until he was ready to let go.

Without creating any distance between your bodies, you shift your head to look up at him, your chin firmly pressed against the bare part of his chest. He angled his head just right so he could look down at you. For a moment all you and Joel could do is stare at each other, as if the two of you haven’t stolen enough glances in the time you’ve known each other. Joel’s bottom lip was full of color and slightly swollen as if he had been chewing on it. You blinked a few times to bring yourself to the present moment.

“I missed you,” The words flowed out of you before you could think of what the consequences of admitting that would be. In the moment it felt right, you felt safe enough to admit that to him and you wanted him to know.

His face was set in stone, but a glimmer of something appeared in his eye and his shoulders appeared to relax as he slowly exhaled. It seemed like he didn't know what to say back. You didn’t care if he felt the same way if he missed you or even cared for you the way you do for him. All that mattered was that he knew someone had missed him, that his absence here mattered to you.

“You’re the only person who makes me feel sane,” You followed up in a whisper, returning the side of your face to his chest and tightening your arms around him. His heart rate picked up once again– deep and wild.

read chapter sixteen here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

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