joel miller, in his long old life in this world, didn't think this day would come. before the apocalypse, he had a very different idea of his life. then, in the QZ, it was an even more different idea. after getting to jackson, his mind was made up.

then, in that fateful moment where the golf club was about to strike, he thought he wouldn't get to live it with you, after all.

how wrong he was.

he brushes his hands together triumphantly, stepping back and admiring his handywork.

he had just finished hammering in the last fence post around what he always wanted - a goddamn sheep farm.

you giggle at his antics, rolling your eyes playfully. “proud of yourself, are you, old man? come on.”

he rolls his eyes at you and mumbles something about not being that old, but he lets you off the hook.

he always does.

a few months after the incident with the fireflies, after saving ellie and going to live in jackson, he started to pay attention to you more. you were as bright as the goddamn sun when he met you. loud and unapologetically yourself, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you, despite not wanting to get attached to anyone or anything

other than that, you have so much more below the surface. your own traumas, your own backstory. who doesn't in a world like this? he wishes he could protect you from it all, but he's wiser than that.

but joel think he really fell in love with you a year after meeting you. it was something simple, just the way you laughed while he was slightly tipsy under the stars, and he felt it. the warmth bloom through his chest that he firstly blamed on the alcohol, and the clarity in his mind, like a light had been switched on.

from then on, he knew he wanted to live his dream. the dream he told ellie about - having a sheep farm. this time, not alone, but with you.

and he had to go through a lot to get here. his new leg took a lot of getting used to after he was shot in the knee cap, and his head was fucked up for a long while, but he survived. he recovered, even though it took a time, and now here you both are.

he watches you walk along the pathway up to the house, the soft summer breeze brushing past you as you crouch down and stroke the lamb's wool. they roam freely around the house, contained in the fences surrounding, and have their own farmhouse behind your own.

he watches you talk to the sheep, grinning to himself. “you're a odd girl, darlin'. come on. let's get you inside the house.”

you grin up at him, putting your face next to the lamb's and pretending to cover it's ears. “jeez, miller. in front of the children? at least take me to dinner first.”

he scoffs at you, hiding his amusement poorly. “the lamb doesn't give a damn. come on, baby.”