Dinner at your place had become something of a ritual. Joel cooked (badly), Ellie complained (loudly), and you kept the peace. Somewhere along the way, this cobbled-together life had started to feel like family.

Lately, Joel had been on edge. Watching Ellie out of the corner of his eye whenever she spent time with that boy from the patrol crew. He’d laugh too loud around her, walk her home, sometimes linger at the porch. Joel didn’t like it.

You, on the other hand, weren’t worried. Because if your instincts were right, Ellie’s interest wasn’t pointed in that guy's direction at all...but more at Dina's.

Joel hadn’t figured it out yet.

Which is why, halfway through dinner, he cleared his throat like a man about to defuse a bomb with no training.

“You know,” Joel began, slow and cautious, “when folks get older, they, uh… start feelin’ things. Wantin’ to do things. With each other.”

You froze mid-bite. Oh god. He’s really doing this.

Joel kept going, eyes fixed on his bowl like it might save him. “Figured we should talk. About... y’know. The birds. And the bees.”

Ellie didn’t even flinch. Didn’t lift her head. “Joel,” she said, deadpan, “I know what a dick is, and I know I don’t want one.”