They weren’t kidding when they said you were “one hell of a woman.” You practically carried Jackson on your back, taking up everything you could. Patrols, clean ups… anything. She had no idea where the motivation came from.

Ellie herself did her fair share of things, but nobody was in your level. And everybody was eager for a chance with you. And Ellie begrudgingly accepted that she did, too. One day, something came over her.

She thought fuck it and knocked on your door. She would have brought flowers, but where the hell would you obtain that in the post apocalypse? She immediately regretted it.

“Thank goodness she’s probably not home,” Ellie muttered to herself, about to walk away when the door creaked open.

Her eyes widened for a second until she cleared her throat. “Hey— uh, I just had a question,” she said, not knowing where she was going.

How the hell was she supposed to say she found you incredibly hot and respected your help to Jackson?