You swirl the glass of whiskey in your hand, your wrist moving as the liquid moves over the rim, risking going over the edge of the cup, just never spilling over. Your eyes train on the movement of Joel’s fingers across the strings of his guitar as he plays.

He knows he’d never play guitar unless it meant doing it for Ellie, or doing it in private to keep some sense of skill he owns that isn’t hunting in this fucked up world.

Joel’s fingertips are moving in a hesitant way, just gently strumming before eventually sliding up to adjust the pegs, twisting them precisely to the desired adjustment.

You just watch with a sip of whiskey, the feeling burning throughout your throat, making you stifle a cough. Joel glances up at you with an unreadable expression, before back down to focus.

“If it hurts, don’t do it, doll..” Your boyfriend says.

He sighs, not at all upset with you, knowing the liquid burns his own throat despite him continuing to swallow it down.