[It's his face, but wrong somehow -- off from her memories, and it takes her a second to realize that his crow's feet aren't so deep, that there's not so much silver in his hair and beard. Even the shirt he's wearing is one that she'd borrowed from him years ago and had never given back- she couldn't say where it is now, but the last time he wore it was...]
Joel.
[Ellie's voice is small, strained, and blurry with the hot knife-edge of tears. Her hand touches his, and the brush of half-missing fingers gives her a brief burst of wrong before she throws her free arm around his shoulders, and hugs him so tightly she might leave bruises. In his ear, she sucks back a sob.
She hasn't held onto him like this since he found her covered in blood and bruises, a machete in her hands, smeared with tears and ash.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-08-23 08:46 pm (UTC)Joel.
[Ellie's voice is small, strained, and blurry with the hot knife-edge of tears. Her hand touches his, and the brush of half-missing fingers gives her a brief burst of wrong before she throws her free arm around his shoulders, and hugs him so tightly she might leave bruises. In his ear, she sucks back a sob.
She hasn't held onto him like this since he found her covered in blood and bruises, a machete in her hands, smeared with tears and ash.]