Ellis found it interesting. His best friend since the day he could walk was laying in another room, probably still wide awake with worry about the fact that he was bitten, and here the mechanic was, in his own bubble of thoughts, and he could only think about a certain conman. Nick had promised him something before everyone decided to head off to bed. Nick wasn't going to be rude to him, and though he liked the sound of that, it sounded foreign. Ellis shook his head. Why would he ask if Nick thought he was stupid? If the card shark thought he was, he would've said it long ago.
He was fascinated by his own thoughts, because it was as if he wasn't really thinking when speaking to the older man. Words were stuck into his mouth and he spit them out out of order and upside-down.
If anything, Nick might think Ellis was interested in him! Ellis laughed, but then seized his own noise.
… Was he?
Ellis stared up at the ceiling, dumbfounded by his own thoughts. If he was- well, shit, man. He didn't even know he swayed that way. The fact alone that Nick may be the cause of his stupidity and distraction made him shiver. But of course, living with his ma, he grew up learning that all sorts of people where still people.
'It doesn't matter who you love, as long as you're happy, Ellis!' His mother used to tell him. Ellis would always laugh and shake it off as nothing, thinking he was all for the women, anyways.
Ellis looked over to the man of his thoughts, his eyes scanning the sleeping figure and the rise and fall of his stomach. The conman looked so much more thin without his stained white coat on, and with only the blue under shirt, he looked even better than usual.
One night? It shouldn't take one night itself for Ellis to decide if he liked someone of his own gender or not. He's tired, maybe he's just confused.
Besides, even if he did like the older man, how would he explain it to him? 'Hey, Nick! Heh, over night, I decided that well, I like yew, so why don't we get together and just get it on! What do ya say?'
Ellis nibbled his bottom lip and turned over on his side, his back to the sleeping gambler. He shut his eyes tightly, gripping onto the pillow beneath him. He's just confused. Yeah, that's it. He'll be alright in the morning.
Already, the southerner was drifting off to sleep, and he allowed himself to relax. The bill of his hat was pushed up as he rested his head forward on the pillow until it slipped off completely.
One, two, three... four... fiiivee... siiix...
It was hot. And not only was it hot, it was dark, and humid. Like someone was close enough to him to make him sweat a little from so much body heat.
Ellis blinked, but the amount of darkness did not change. He tried to lift an arm, and he realized then he was laying on something.
He jolted, sitting up too fast and waking the person beneath him as he fell backwards to the floor.
"El, you alright?"
Ellis froze at the sound of the voice.
… Oh shit.
The southerner grabbed at his chest and gasped, when he felt his bare skin under his hand. Where... He looked down to find that he was stripped down to only his boxers, and he flushed.
When did this happen?
He woke up to the sound of infected howling outside and the feel of his sweat. Ellis blinked his blues and sat up quickly, not even disturbing the gambler next to him. He looked around the dark room, swallowing several times and sighed. "What was that all about...?" He whispered to himself.
Ellis slowly reached an arm to his chest, and was pleased to find his clothes still on.
Except, one thing about his clothes caught his attention. The southerner pulled the covers off of him to find that he had urinated himself in his sleep. Blood rushed to his face, and he was quite thankful he'd woken up now. Man, he wouldn't even begin to describe how embarrassing it would be for someone else to find what he'd done. Although, he couldn't blame himself; he'd never really found a chance to relieve himself the previous day.
Ellis left the bed to change his undergarments, moving to discard the boxers in the laundry room across the hall.
A thought struck the mechanic, and he turned on his heel to head towards the room Keith was in. His feet slid on the wood as he walked the short distance, the only comforting noise of the night. When he reached the door, he raised an arm to turn the knob when he stopped in his place. What if he's dead?
Ellis shook his head, urging himself to move into the room, despite his negative thoughts. The room was dimly lit and the only sound was the survivors' breathing. He looked around, finally spotting the other mechanic lying on his back in the bed, his covers off.
"Keith..." He said in a low, grumbled voice. He crossed the room in a few short steps, eyebrows furrowing together the closer he got. "Keith, you alright?" He poked his friend with one finger, and the red-head only stirred, moving onto his side. Ellis crouched down and put a hand to his forehead. "Well, you're temperature seems alrigh'." He mumbled.
"Cool, but I don't feel alright." Keith responded, and Ellis titled his head with concern.
"One minute I'm on fire, man. The next, I'm cold as ice." He complained quietly.
"I've had some nights like that. It's nothin'." Ellis said, trying to ease both of their nerves a little.
"I hope it ain't anything bad. Ellis, you know how much I like my life," He chuckled, "and tonight would not be a good time to end it."
"It won't end, so shut up." He said, playfully nudging him. "Why don't we go an' talk in the living room or something before we wake someone else?"
Keith nodded, sitting up and rubbing at his eye. He shivered a little as small goosebumps made their way onto his bandaged arms. Ellis led the way out of the room, silently counting the number of pictures on the wall. When they reached the wider room, the two made their way to sit on a couch, and there was a small silence before Ellis cleared his throat.
"I don't know if you're immune." He started. Keith looked at him, before glancing back down at his feet and nodding.
"I don't know, either, El."
"I mean... I hope you are. I'm gettin' a little more reassurance that you are, cause you haven't turned yet. I- I thought it didn't take long to, uh, change." He explained. Why was he even talking about this, though? If anything, they should talk about something but Keith changing, say he does.
"I don't know. I hope so, too, man." He gave a lop-sided smile the two always seemed to share as a feature. He wiped at his brow, although there was no sweat formed there.
Ellis clasped his fingers together and looked away, frowning. "Keith." He squeaked. Should he voice his confusion...?
He shook his head. "Never mind. I already know." He smiled, fibbing.
The red head took a deep breath and smiled back. "What was it?"
"If we were going to actually get to New Orleans." He lied even more. He didn't need to tell Keith. Not yet, anyways. Ellis himself was still trying to figure out what the hell was going through his mind.
"What do ya think?"
"We will." He said, blue eyes sparkling.
Nick woke up to the sound of a shower running next door. He looked to his right to find an empty spot where Ellis laid the night before. The conman rubbed at his cheeks, hoping to stretch out tightened face muscles, before reaching his arms above his head and yawning. He ran a hand through his messy hair, taking a chance to look around the blank room.
He threw the covers off of his torso and climbed out, never being the sort of person to linger in bed after awakening, and stilled himself after wobbling around from sleep. He looked around the dimly lit room before walking out into the hall.
"-a lotta them, too. I wonder what's got them all out here..." The conman overheard Coach speaking to other survivors out in the living room.
"It's because they've run out of food, that's what. They've come here in hopes of getting a scrap of our flesh." Francis replied with a grumble. Nick walked away from the bedroom door and entered the room the others where hanging out in.
"About time you got up, lazy ass." The biker responded.
"... What the hell happened to a simple 'Hello'?" He raised an eyebrow. Francis smirked, but said nothing. "So... Any news about anything?"
Coach cleared his throat. "Well, we've got loads of infected outside," He started.
"So I heard." Nick nodded.
"There's a lotta them. I wonder if there's even more zombies from yesterday's events." He spoke, running a gloved hand over his face.
"Well, whatever it is, we need to get rid of them. We can't stay in this shit hole all day." Francis said as the shower went off. The conman looked down the hall where the bathroom was and ran a hand around his greasy head. He hoped he'd get a turn in the bathroom. If the man had to go any longer with so much grime caked on his clothing and skin, he'd probably rip out his hair and scream.
Author's notes: I'm sort of itchy about uploading this chapter ._. I'm afraid the few people who DO like this story will turn away once they read this because of the thought alone that I'm just another fangirl.
Well, crap. Whatever. Flames will be used to make s'mores.