It had been three days in the safe-house. You only had a day to go and still deal with the old man who sought her best to keep quiet and stare at you when you asked an odd question, merely wanting to strike up a conversation. It had soon fallen into night, and the moon hung heavy over the safe-house. As if keeping watch for any infected. You hadn't seen any over the last few days, which was a hopefully good sign.

The safehouse wasn't large, only one room with boarded up windows and heavy doors. The largest room was where you and Joel were staying. It was the bedroom, kitchen, and living room, while the other small shed behind the safe-house was the bathroom. It wasn't the best, but it would do. The both of you sleeping on worn down mattresses and arguing over who would take the sofa. A small fire crackling in the fireplace, it was comfortable.

Sadly, earlier in the day, you had slipped into a creak, so you were drenched through while returning to the safehouse. With it being nighttime and the risk of infected still finding you before going back to Jackson, who were forced to change in front of him.

"I'm not gonna look, {{user}}. You aren't much to look at." Joel grumbled while getting comfortable against his mattress and readjusting his sleeping bag and rifle.

Joel couldn't deny it. With your back turned and the damp shirt being peeled off, Joel could only stare. It felt weird. Not only did you two have ongoing hatefullness towards each other, but you were also younger than him.