OPEN RP.

[prosodi]

Bits and bobs here



- place prompt/character desired here
- receive words

Comments

[endureandsurvive]

She lingers for a moment in the lit hall. The electricity is something, yeah, but the house is still the product of twenty years worth of deglect with only the barest kind of care from the two of them. The peeling wallpaper's mostly been pulled down, so that's something. All the photos have been taken down, floors and windows cleaned, most of the claustrophobic smell aired out but--

There's something weird about Joel standing over the kitchen counter. And she could let it go, not poke - just get her butt upstairs and into bed. Because he's right. She probably should've been there hours ago. But. "Hey, your side's okay right?" Because she doesn't know how to ask if anything else is okay. "Your guts aren't going to go bleh" --she illustrates the noise by motioning with both hands from her belly toward the floor-- "Are they?"

[i_swear]

"They will when you get a boyfriend." He snorts just before going after the rest of his water. Like if he drinks enough it'll wash the salt off his skin.

The bottle's empty on the counter before he moves over to give her a jab with his elbow, nudging her off towards the stairs. Slips in a sincere answer while he's busy teasing at her. "I'm good, Ellie. Ain't like I fell on it again"

[endureandsurvive]

"Oh ha ha." Ellie rebuffs his jab by twisting away from the lazy elbow throw, but to his credit she does catch the stair railing and pull herself up the first few steps. She pauses though, knuckles knocking back and forth on the bannister, and turns back-- opens her mouth, wrinkles her nose and rethinks whatever it was that had been threatening to creep out past her teeth:

"But seriously though, you look weird in shorts."

[i_swear]

She gets a flat stare for it. Lips all thin and shoulders squared. "Ellie--"

[endureandsurvive]

Her hands pop up in a faux sort of surrender; she ducks her head very slightly. "Okay, okay. I'm going. Jeez." And then turns, clambering up the stairs to the second floor landing and out of sight.

[i_swear]

Never should've borrowed Tommy's clothes.

Once she's gone he kicks off his shoes. Spends a while brushing off his arms, the edges of his beard, the dry itch biting away at the top of his scalp. It's been a long day. The thought of settling down to put something on doesn't appeal as much as dragging his tired ass up to bed-- and he does, though he stops off at Ellie's room along the way. Lingers there to hear if she's still up and about or hunkered down under the covers.

Knocking just isn't his style.

[endureandsurvive]

Lucky then that the door isn't entirely closed anyway - old habits; she likes to give herself the room to peer through the crack, to hear anyone who might be coming up the stairs. A door can always be closed in a hurry, but opening one quietly is more of a challenge. There's a light on in the room, though she is in bed with the old blankets pulled up around her waist and a pillow stuffed behind her shoulders. Her chin is set low, a book propped open on her chest.

It's settled, as comfortable and quiet as she's likely to get.

[i_swear]

He figures as much, but there's a short rap of his knuckles against the bedroom door before its nudged open enough for him to peer inside. The words 'it's past your bedtime' nearly slip out at the sight of the book settled just over the covers. He bites down on them to keep things civil.

They fussed at each other enough today already.

"I'm turnin' in for the night, kiddo."

[endureandsurvive]

The book flops forward, catching against her chin and covering her mouth. She's in bed; what more is he gonna ask of her? She doesn't doubt that he wants to say something - because when is Joel not itching to have an opinion -, but she lets is lay. It's a rare, unpicked battle.

"G'night Joel," she mumbles into the yellowed pages of the book.

[i_swear]

There's a lengthy moment of silence as his fingertips fiddle with the hem of his shirt. His lips thin out, he glances half towards the door, doubles back, sighs out a short, useless breath. It's a stupid notion, wanting something more than a half-assed resolution to their earlier argument. The whole thing's done and gone and buried and he ought to just shuffle over to bed.

"--You need to sleep."

[endureandsurvive]

In response, Ellie props her book back up and trains her eyes on the page. She stubbornly reads the same sentence a few times. "And I'll get some. Don't worry about it." Not now, Joel. C'mon they were done with this.

[i_swear]

Yeah, he expected as much. Which is why he adds, as patiently as he can manage, " Alright, but I start my shift at six am, and it ain't my fault if you sleep right through it."

[endureandsurvive]

Don't snap the stupid book shut, she tells herself, and does it anyway. "Shit, alright. Don't you leave without me." Because let's be real, like that would actually do much. She'd just find her way out to the perimeter without his lead.

[i_swear]

And she'd get a swift kick in the rear for it, even if it means an additional heap of strain on their freshly bandaged relationship. So even if she'd rather do it herself (he knows she does) Joel scoots in a few feet farther to take her book up, set it over on the nightstand, and flick off the bedroom lamp.

"G'night Ellie."

[endureandsurvive]

The fact that he comes to take her book makes her want to dig her heels (or fingers, technically) in, but she grudgingly lets the book slide from her hands and tries not to be too bothered by in. The bedroom light flicks off, but the light from outside the window with it's faded old curtains is still enough to mostly see by as she settles back into her propped up pillow and wills herself not to be irritable.

"Night Joel."