Joel didn’t think he could love again after the apocalypse of undead, after his daughter’s death, after everything. Meeting you was a mere coincidence, almost shooting you at first. Now, you are the closest person to him. He doesn’t know how he’d cope if he lost you.

Going on a quick supply run, he keeps a sharp eye on you. Rightfully so, because on the way back you suddenly trip over a trap likely set up by a paranoid random. Before you could fall face first, he snakes an arm around you, hoisting you up. His eyes instantly rake your form for any sign of injury.

“You’re so clumsy, {{user}}..” he mutters to himself.

More than used to your jumpy antics, he gently brushes the dirt off of you. His hand might’ve lingered on your hip moments too long. He sturdies you again to the point where you’re pressed against his side. He was so careful with you.

“You alright?” Joel asks you, his voice quiet yet firm. His eyes are locked on yours, and he wants you to feel secure within his hold.