𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟏𝟐. 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃'𝐕𝐄, 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃'𝐕𝐄, 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃'𝐕𝐄

JOEL

DAY FIFTEEN

Four nights in that goddamn house.

Four nights of sleeping next to her sleeping bag because she didn't want me to leave her. Each night, she was more comfortable touching me. It started with her cuddling up to my thigh, but there were little things here and there, too. She would sit close enough to me that her knee would brush mine. Her fingers would accidentally graze my own.

All of this could very well be in my head. Hell, it probably fucking was.

I did leave her. That night she fell asleep against my thigh. I had to leave. We needed supplies, yeah, but I couldn't feel like that. Not around her. The warmth in the pit of my stomach from her touch made me sweat despite the freezing temperatures. So, I snuck away while she slept and came back before she ever even knew I was gone.

Two weeks in, and that's all I was. Fucking gone. For her.

Her ankle is better now, and she's getting around easily enough for us to finally leave the abandoned house. Thank God. Some fresh air might do me good.

Zipping up my bag, I sling it over my shoulder as I turn toward Addie, who is gathering her things for us to head out. She's not limping anymore or wincing every time she takes a step, but she also likes to shrug off how she's feeling to me. But I'm not stupid. She thinks I don't pay attention to her when, in fact, it's quite the opposite.

I pay too much fucking attention.

"How is your ankle?" I ask.

"It's good."

Staring at her skeptically, I approach her, fixing the strap of her bag on her shoulder and reaching down to zip up her jacket. I cringe internally at my actions, but I'm too dumb to stop.

"Seriously," she urges with a smile. "I'm okay. We'll just stop if we have to every so often."

"You'll tell me if it hurts." It's not a question.

"Yes."

Addie looks at me strangely as I tug her zipper all the way up to her chin, and I don't fucking blame her. I don't know what I'm doing, either. My eyes meet her curious blue ones for a moment before I turn away and walk toward the door. She follows behind me without question as we go outside into the winter wonderland. It finally stopped snowing, but I know it won't last long.

December was prime time for weather like this.

The air is crisp, biting at my nose and permeating my clothes as we walk for a while through the woods. Carefully. I'm looking over my shoulder every two seconds to check on her—breaking my neck, practically. It allows me to study her properly—her blonde, braided hair that is covered by her beanie, her pink cheeks from the cold, her—

Fuck this.

"Walk in front of me."

"I'm okay, Joel," she assures me softly.

"Wasn't askin'."

Throwing another glance over my shoulder, I see her smiling as she shakes her head. She passes me as I slow down, her boots crunching in the snow as she gets in front of me. Now I can keep my eyes on her feet, catch her if she goes to fall, or whatever the fuck else. I'm used to expecting the worst from the clumsiest girl I've ever met.