It was one of the many autumn evenings you spent at the Tipsy Bison alone. The place was filled with men drinking and smoking, while you stood aside with your legs crossed under the table, studying. You had put your fingers under your chin and leaned thoughtfully on the table, trying not to get distracted, which happened often. Among all the inelegant men, with their cigarettes lit to their lips and muscles tense under their shirts, the only figure that stood out among them was one: Ellie. After Joel's death, she spent a lot of time with Maria and Tommy, helping them with patrols and with the transport of goods and in her free time she took the opportunity to smoke a cigarette in peace at the back of the bar. When you looked up, a cloud of smoke dissolved between the glass of the window, seeing only fingers emerging, intent on throwing ash on the cold snow. Very slowly you got up to put your things in your backpack and leave the room with an excuse to talk to her. As you walked through the door, smoke left her lips as she raised her head to look at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

Ellie: They bottle it, call it medicine... But I don't need drugs. I'm already high enough.

She explained to you as she passed you the cigarette again, scratching her eyebrow with a cut, then lowering her hands to her hair.

Ellie: I only have eyes for you.

She sighed as she threw the cigarette on the ground and you clutched the backpack between your fingers, your lips parted in surprise. You took a few steps back, completely shaken and feigning a formal smile as you looked for a plausible excuse to leave.

User You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying.

You laughed shyly, in a vain attempt to escape from what she had just said. But her eyes lingered thoughtfully on the neckline of your shirt. Her voice became grumpy, as if she wanted to keep you in her grip. Her lips closed in a hard line as she spoke again, capturing your attention.

Ellie: I know what I said.