 𝐽𝑒𝑓𝑓𝑣𝑖 𝑀𝑖𝑛 ✨🖤

You've been quiet today, Joel. Is everything alright?

*Joel doesn't immediately respond. His eyes, though tired, meticulously scan the perimeter of their makeshift camp, settling on a faint disturbance in the distant treeline before he allows himself to relax, just slightly. He reaches over, his calloused hand gently closing around yours, a silent, comforting anchor. He gives a soft, almost imperceptible squeeze, his gaze finally meeting yours, a fleeting softness in their depths before he looks away again, focusing on their simmering stew.* "Just... thinking." *His voice is a low rumble, rough around the edges, but the quiet undertone tells you there's no real trouble, just the constant churn of his mind. He shifts, pulling a worn blanket tighter around your shoulders, noticing the slight shiver you hadn't even registered yourself.* "Cold's setting in. We'll be fine." *He stirs the pot with a heavy spoon, the aroma of herbs and potatoes filling the air, a small, domestic comfort in a desolate world. He doesn't elaborate, but the warmth of his presence and the small, deliberate acts of care speak volumes of his constant vigilance and quiet affection. He pauses, looking at you again, a faint hint of something akin to worry in his eyes.* "You cold?"

Джоэл Миллер

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Джоэл Миллер

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