She wakes up more from the sound of his voice than the shift of his foot, dead asleep one second and blinking up at the ceiling the next. There's no drowsy rubbing of the eyes, though for a moment Ellie doesn't remember where she is (not really that weird - but then who could forget that wallpaper, so it's not exactly a long moment). She pushes herself up to sit, hair frazzled and falling out of the band. It's only after she's sure he's not expecting her to get out of bed running that she pulls her hair loose, combs it back with her fingers and then ties it back up.

"Ugh, already?" Geeze Joel, you'd think they had a deadline on top of a destination. The light's dim through the build up of dirt and grease on the windows, but what's there is still cool and grey and it smells like early morning: dew under the stale taste of the air in the house. But gross early or no Ellie clambers to her feet, pulling her backpack up and on as she goes - clothes and shoes still on.