Chapter Text
You had up and left him a while ago. You said it was for the best, that both of you should go your seperate ways, how could he stop you? You were only two people in the same unpleasant life, finding that solemn comfort within each other to make yourselves feel even just a little bit better. He wasn’t going to keep you from going off, leaving him, maybe starting a better life without his sorry ass dragging you behind with all his damn emotional baggage.
But it made all those memories, all those special moments shared with you seemed like a waste, the past year and a half of his life now having to be forgotten. You had ripped that rug out from under him, making him feel as foolish and unintelligent as a newborn fawn, dense enough to think you’d be in his life forever. He was silly enough to think you would be.
Joel couldn’t think of the thought of you he had conjured up in his mind late at night when he was alone— tired eyes staring into nothingness —the one that stayed. The one that laughed with him, laid ever so reverently beside him in the mornings, spent lazy afternoons with him like just that was enough. God, he wished it would’ve been enough for you, wished there was a way he could’ve made you stay. Made you want him again like he so cravingly desired you.
His lonely, insufferable nights turned into far blurs each morning after.
Times when he wasn’t nose deep in work, he was trying to drown out the absolute yearn to contact you again, to see you.
Ignoring the sense of longing to feel the heat of you under his fingertips and know that you’ll never leave him again, and this time he wouldn’t let you leave.
Most nights were spent wallowing away, knee dip in self pity, in the dim corner of a tacky bar down the road from his home. Anything was better than that sad, empty feeling of returning back to an equally empty house. Once filled with sweet laughter and genuine, gentle smiles, now felt like a landfill of ‘what ifs’ and how it could’ve gone. How it should be.
Nursing a glass of ice cold whiskey, he sat slumped over the bar table, eyebrows pulled taut as his thoughts felt chaotic. Joel sighed bringing the glass to his lips, sipping a drink that burns the back of his throat, just to stop the noise. Stop the jumbled mess in his head. Hell, he missed you.
Missed your smile.
Missed your pretty fuckin’ eyes.
Especially when you looked at him like he could do no wrong, like he was a man of pure good. Always seeing the best in him even though he couldn’t himself.
He choked back a sniffle, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he set the glass on the sticky table, empty.
Calling the bartender over, requesting another one. He couldn’t even remember how many he’s had at this point, six? Eight? More? Gods, he was helpless without you, he’d forget his head if it weren’t attached to his neck.
Skulling back his drink, he groaned miserably, that same burning sensation down his throat coming back, a shiver crept up his spine involuntarily. He felt ill as his glass hit the table yet again, nevertheless, he found himself demanding another.
“Uh— Actually.. can’t serve you anymore, sir.” The bartender’s voice was kind, laced thick with sympathy that made Joel dread to look up at her and her possibly sympathetic eyes. Was he really that loose with his expressions that people would notice? Sure, he’s had more than enough to drink, but surely his thoughts aren’t conveying out to his emotions. That’s not like him at all. “I don’t want you to be spewing out on the side of the road when your stomach finally says you’ve had enough, sorry.”
Joel huffs, half annoyance and half for feeling so very pathetic as his eyebrows pull taut together.
Pulling out his wallet from his back pocket, fumbling embarrassingly over the different pockets, he mumbled a short ‘right’ before slamming down a few 10’s and sliding them over to her.
Sliding off the barstool, Joel caught sight of her gaze— pity —he could tell. Always had an eye for reading people, now he was thinking it was more like a curse, made him feel worser than he did. If that was even possible right now.
He found himself sleazily making his way to the door, his head starting to pound with the thought of you whipping through like cold winds that never got the memo it was supposed to be summer. Always coming back, even when he tried to drown you out with the only thing keeping him saturated from his own mind.
The door bell rang shortly as the hazy jukebox faded into the background, along with voices that were a damn nuisance to him— albeit, all he could think about was you.
His fingers acted before his brain could think, scrolling through contacts, straight to yours. Your contact photo was still you and Joel, looking so happy together. Oh, he missed you so much.
He’s praying for you to pick up, just hearing your voice would be a heaven sent gift.
“Joel?” Your voice, groggy and raspy— presumably from sleep, rang out through the phones speaker after a few counts of silence. Like you were wondering yourself if Joel fucking Miller was really calling you, this late at night, as well. “Why..” You paused, “Why did you call?”
Your voice was curt, annoyed, it seemed. You think of yourself having every right to feel that way.
Joel swallowed down his nerves, running a heavy hand down his face, fingertips rubbing over the scruff of his beard with hesitance. Hearing your voice after all this time was complete and utter heaven. Your name left his lips barely above a whisper, shaky and unsure, like he was testing the waters.
He was already abusing his damn luck. You picking up was got to be the most fortunate thing he’s been experienced this week. This month, in fact.
“I.. Uh—“ He groaned internally, suddenly feeling like a fool, calling you this late at night? Out of the blue? He was just acting selfish at this point.
He just missed you so goddamn much.
He cleared his throat, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he held the phone unnecessarily close to his ear, his heart wanting you to say more. So he could hear that dear, precious voice he missed dearly.
“This.. this was a mistake. Shit, s’nothin’..” His words were slurred. The alcohol getting to his head like always, making him so stupidly brave to then just instantly regret it a little while later. “Sorry f’wakin’ you.”
“No! No— Joel.” Your squeaked out abruptly, your hand snaking it’s way up to cover your mouth as if you couldn’t believe your own words. “It’s okay, just.. are you drunk?”
You heard a weak huff of air on the other line, before he cleared his throat, mumbling a curt ‘maybe’ under his breath. Like you couldn’t tell already. “Doesn’t matter, like I said. T’was dumb callin’ you.”
You contemplated his words, though you couldn’t like to yourself, he was always unavoidable. The world knew Joel Miller and you could never be separated, you don’t know if you knew it yourself yet.
“Shut up, ‘m coming to get you. Give me 10 and the location.”
Maybe you missed him more than you let on.
—
Flicking the cigarette he had lit to kill his nerves out onto the pavement, stubbing it in roughly with the tip of his boot, the thought of even sitting in the same vicinity as you ringing in his mind.
Joel trudged out to bright headlights as you pulled up, his mind still uncertain about this— about you. He hasn’t seen you in what, months? And it was just this easy to slip back into your life, all because of a half undecided phone call that was uncalled for and unprecedented.
God must’ve been on his side tonight, for once in his life.
Giving you a sharp nod of friendly-ish acknowledgement as soon as he clambered into the passenger seat, Joel instantly began to feel out of place. Skittish, almost. He forgot how nerve-racking it felt to be beside you, especially how it ended between you. Not so kindly up and leaving him to his own devices like it had been the easiest choice of your life.
Your voice cut him from his train of thought, “Soo, Joel..” You started lightly, fingertips drumming against the steering wheel in an attempt to at least bring back some semblance of what the fuck happened for him to end up in your car.
He grunts, a subtle sign for you to knock it off, his head was painfully throbbing and he couldn’t handle any more emotions tonight.
“Don’t do that to me. You called me, okay?” You snipped back at him, shooting a glare right to his slurry state in your passenger seat. “Haven’t talked to you in.. in so long. You’re drunk and— and you expect me to what? Pick you up, and then what?”
His eyes glanced over at you briefly.
“Drop you off and never speak to you again like normal? Could’ve called a cab, could’ve gotten someone else to drive you,” You were just about seething, trying your darndest to keep all your emotions to yell inside you. “But you called me.”
You really had no idea where this sudden courage came from, the need to act so defensive and angry, like you had any right.
It was messy, your feelings towards each other. Always has been, mixed feelings and thoughts with barely any communication, just enough to scrape by the bare minimum of a some-what healthy relationship.
He stayed silent, eyes stuck to the road ahead as thick arms folded stubbornly against his chest, leaning back into the seat. An irritable sigh left your lips as your own eyes now stayed stuck to the road as well, sick of whatever was going on between you.
Why was this so difficult?
“‘m not askin’ for that.” Joel sputtered after a few long seconds of agonisingly uncomfortable silence that had washed over him. “I jus’— I dunno. Okay? That good enough? I fuckin’ don’t know.”
Oh.. how could this man sound so unmeaningly miserable, that he somehow makes all your rage fickle into tiny little embers? All that burning fire converting into sympathy you didn’t know he deserved at the moment.
“Jus’ drive.” He added, sounding unbelievably tired, if Joel Miller could possibly get any more tired.
“No, but I wanna talk abo—“
“Drive.“
You surprised yourself with how much you remember about the roads back to his house, you were sure it even made Joel fidget when he saw how you’d never asked for directions once. Muscle memory, or whatever.
It was awkward as soon as you took the keys out of the ignition, the air suddenly silent that gave you the creeps— not because you were scared. But because you were confused and kind of hurt.
It hurt being around Joel like this, when everything between you was so complex and all your feelings got in an uncontrollable tangle of wires. Unable to wrap your head around the fact he had called you.
He had wanted you, right? Why would he have called you if it wasn’t for that?
Your thoughts were cut short when Joel cleared his throat, you glanced over to see him dragging a hand across his face like he was experiencing the same feelings you were at the same time, but amplified from the overconsumption of booze flowing through his body.
“Well..” The car door popped open on your side, sliding out slowly, you hesitantly walked over to the passenger side of your car to open his door for him.
Unceremoniously clambering out of the car, you tried to help him stand, he stopped you before you could even loop your arm around him. Stating that he just needed a simple minute and he could stand on his own.
He was just so insolent while drunk sometimes, and emotional.
That tough guy ‘I-can-do-it-myself’ persona crumbled in a measly few seconds, helping him walk to his door with his face brushing against your neck with every step, you helped him fumble with the hundred-something keys on his keyring, and you helped him get into his own damn house, laying him swiftly (more like tumbling) onto his living room couch.
So much for doing it without your help.
He was hopeless, it seems.
You never really thought that you’d be in Joel’s house again, never thought you would’ve had him at a measly arms length, but then again— here you are. Aren’t you? Which is strange, you didn’t know what to do anymore.
He seemed quite out of it, and now you felt a sense of unwieldy unpleasantness wash over you, standing in the middle of his living room you had no reason of really being in except for the fact he was drunk.
A sharp but muffly groan made you look over at him for the first time in the 5 minutes you were staring off into nothingness, feeling out of place.
“Huuhm,” he sighed, your name falling from his lips so quietly you would’ve missed it if it weren’t for the dead silence within this Godforsaken house of his. “..Stay.”
Oh.
Your eyes widened slightly, embarrassingly squirming on your feet, the unexpectedness of his question that you didn’t even know if he registered himself catching you off guard, “Oh, Joel, I don’t know—“
“S’okay,” he implored. “‘feel bad f’what I did tonight, shouldn’t have t’drive home so late.”
You nodded distractedly, “Right, r-right. Okay.”
“‘Kay.” Joel mimicked, honey-brown eyes staring hazily at your un-noticing figure setting up the other long couch beside his for you to sleep on.
He drifted off to sleep easier knowing you weren’t leaving him tonight, even if it was just for tonight.