just a girl

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What if you had been scheduled for patrol that day, so there could’ve been another person searching for Tommy and Joel, potentially finding them sooner? What if you had been able to get to Ellie sooner, before Joel’s beaten, lifeless, bloody corpse had been burned into her eyes? What if the snowstorm that day hadn’t been as bad? 

What if Tommy had shown up to the farmhouse two weeks earlier than he actually had? 

The farmhouse, in all honesty, had somewhat originally been Dina’s idea. If you had more truths pulled from your unspoken thoughts, you–admittedly–resented the idea of it at first. A younger version of Ellie–one that had bright eyes and an easy laugh–hated farming tasks. She found them boring. Thought the isolation of a farmhouse, away from town, sounded lonely. 

Steadily, Dina sold her on the idea. Lonely transformed into peaceful. Boring turned into kinda nice. You couldn’t fault your mutual friend, but you grew worried. Worried that the idea of a farmhouse would be less of a solace, and more of an escape. Worried that the concept started to resonate more with Ellie because she couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of those around her in Jackson–couldn’t bear to continue to face Jesse’s parents on a daily basis. Worried that Ellie couldn’t bear–just as you couldn’t bear–the way in which Tommy had started to look at Ellie less like a family member that needed to be protected, and instead more like a faulty weapon–a gun that failed to fire in a crucial moment of war. 

Shortly after Seattle, you moved into a farmhouse outside of the Jackson gates with Ellie. 

Timing. 

If Tommy had come two weeks earlier than he had, when Ellie had that short burst when she was actually sleeping through the night, maybe she would've stayed. You had seen her smiling at a photograph of Joel that week, and her eyes hadn’t looked so dazed. Maybe if Tommy had come then, the outcome would've been different.

You knew though, really, that wasn't the case.

Ellie was unwell. Lost in a grief that she hadn’t even begun to comprehend. Traumatized. It's not like Tommy's words suddenly rewired her brain. No, she had only needed to be pointed in a direction. Needed a push.

She would've slipped away regardless, in any sense. She wouldn't have lasted long. It was a horrific truth that you had worried yourself sick over. You knew it. You knew it, and yet, you couldn't help but mull over the different possibilities. The way in which things could have unfolded, but didn't. Always back to those terrible, horrible, enticingly cruel what-ifs. 

You always did carry the habit of overthinking.

Ellie would frequently smooth her thumb over the crease between your eyebrows, with a tsk and a shake of her head… a faint smile tugging on her lips. "I can literally see you thinking. Now you're starting to stress me out," she would say.

I'm sorry, you thought silently to her now. It's hard when you're not here.

Love can't fix everything. It's an unfortunate lesson that you've had to learn time and time again. You could love Ellie like your life depended on it–maybe it did–but it wouldn't take away her nightmares. You could squeeze her, hold her tightly like it was the last shred of anything that mattered, but it couldn't put back together everything that she had lost.

It wouldn't make her eat. It wouldn't make her sleep.

But it didn't stop you, either. You loved her–hard. More than anything. Easier than breathing. You loved Ellie with every inhale, every exhale, every single blink of your eyes. 

And she loved you, too. God, did Ellie love you too.

Even when she couldn't find the words. Ellie loved you in the way in which she would allow you to take her hand and lead her to bed, even though she knew that she wouldn't be sleeping. She loved you in the way in which she would remind you to take breaks, despite the darkening circles underneath her own eyes. She loved you in the way in which her book of puns remained on her bedside table, meaning she would recite off the most stupid ones in the dark of your shared bedroom–anything to hear you laugh before you were lulled into your slumber.

Ellie might stay awake–red matter and gore on her mind, the sound of impact and pain ringing in her ears… but you giggled before you fell asleep, and she was glad for it. 

Yeah, she loved you. There was never any doubt about that.

But it couldn't change anything. And it didn't.

Because one morning, you woke up without your lover’s arms wrapped around your form. You woke up, and the bed was cold. Missing her. Bedding slightly askew, like Ellie had just slipped out from under the covers to make a quick trip to the bathroom, or to retrieve a glass of water. 

You knew, though. The realization caused by the absence of her body next to your own rapidly washed over you with a vile wave of sickness. Regret. Guilt. You should’ve known, should’ve figured, should’ve done something. 

Realistically, however, you knew there was nothing that you truly could’ve done, anyway. Ellie had left without a word. No note. Nothing. It wasn’t your fault, but you felt as though it was your fault, even though you knew that it was not your fault. Still–you had been asleep. You had gotten no final words. No last, lingering glance. No goodbye. No kiss. No squeeze of the hand. No quiet promise. 

You knew–in your heart that you loved Ellie very dearly and deeply with–that was how she had intended for it to go. The semblance of an easy goodbye–one lacking tears, desperate pleas, and hands that refused to let go. Ellie chose that. You knew that she did, that her departure was intentional, but the weight of it all still hung over your head. 

Surely, Ellie had planned it. At least somewhat. 

Any other night, you were prone to stirring whenever Ellie would stir. Every shift from Ellie was something that you were extremely aware of. When nightmares plagued her mind, you stayed up with her–talking, holding her, kissing her forehead. When she got up to pace in the kitchen, you followed. Lingered until she wanted your hands, your words, your reassurances. You were in tune with every single breath, every single beat of Ellie’s heart, every fiber of her very being. Any other night, you would’ve known. Any other night, you would’ve felt her shift–felt her sliding out of bed and you would’ve gone with her. You could’ve had a conversation, or at least kissed her one more time before you were left to desperately chase any lingering indication of her presence throughout the farmhouse. Any other night, you would’ve stirred due to Ellie’s movement, and you would’ve gone with her. Santa Barbara, or wherever else she may have ended up, you would’ve followed that girl to the end of the goddamn world. 

But you knew, exactly due to that reason, why Ellie had chosen that night in particular. 

The day had been good. Not just good in a wishful way–it had genuinely gone by without a fault. The two of you had wasted time that day, just sitting together in the grass and watching the sheep. Ellie had a moment where she had laughed so hard, her cheeks tinted pink. That evening, she had twirled you in the kitchen. (You had wondered–torturously, every single day since her absence–if her leaving was premeditated, or if she had just woken up and realized that she had to go. With how Ellie had been staring at you while she had twirled you around the kitchen, and with how her hands had settled on your hips, maybe she knew. At least, maybe there was an inkling of her knowing at the time. Like she was taking it in. Silently saying goodbye to the moment, while you were blissfully unaware.) You didn’t like to drink–not much, not anymore, especially after Ellie’s habit of it had picked up–but you had a few glasses that night. Just for fun. The two of you had showered together–soft kisses, healing touches, and dim lighting. You had been so gentle with each other, as you always were, as you lathered each other up and then washed everything away. You were cuddling before slumber hit you, you knew that much. But you never felt a shift. 

Maybe it had been the long hours spent outside, or the alcohol, or the shower that had relaxed you down to your bones… that had caused you to sleep so heavily that night, you didn’t wake up as Ellie left. And you hated yourself for it. 

And yes–you knew, deep down–that had most likely been the plan. Ellie didn’t want to say goodbye. She didn’t want to see you cry, or hear you plead with her. You knew that she did not want those things–not out of cruelty, but the exact opposite. Even more than that, though, you knew that Ellie didn’t want you going with her. And you would’ve. In a heartbeat, without a second thought, you would’ve joined her journey. 

You knew that Ellie didn’t want that. Couldn’t bear it, most likely. So, she left you to sleep. Left you at the farmhouse, without any final words. Left you safe and sound. Left you alone. 

The grief was all-consuming. 

You cried for her. Endlessly. You were sick over it. Like the rug had been pulled out from under you, the floor falling away from your feet, you felt like you were quite literally flailing. You loved her. For years, you had loved Ellie. Every single night, she had been there. 

She had comforted you through every single one of your nightmares, even when hers were surely worse. She had made sure that you were always eating, even when she couldn’t stomach anything at all. She knew more about space than anyone you had ever met, and spoke so confidently about dinosaurs… even when she stuttered on the name pronunciations. She painted with steady hands, her loved ones nearly always the subjects. She laughed at the same puns that she had laughed at when she was fourteen. She helped you name every single one of your sheep, and always referred to them as such. She made the boring things fun. She kissed you like she meant it every single time, because she did. She called you babe–her voice soft, and her gaze even softer. She tended more carefully to your wounds than she did to her own. She was your best friend. Your girlfriend. Your girl. And just like that, she was gone. 

You missed her. You were worried sick. You wanted her. You loved her. 

Your girl, your girl, your girl. 

Your girl was no longer. It felt impossible to survive. 

The world was cruel, and Ellie had never been given a break. You wanted that for her though, so terribly. You wanted the sun to break through the clouds. You wanted the rainbow after the rain. You had a fucking bone to pick the universe, forget the one that it had thrown you. Ellie Williams deserved better, and you would say it with your dying breath. You hated seeing what the world had done to her. You despised it. Spoke out loud to Joel about it, hoping that he could somehow hear you, as if he could offer you acknowledgement from beyond the grave. 

Everything ached. Sometimes, you were sure that you were genuinely going crazy purely due to the not knowing. You didn’t know where Ellie was, not really. You didn’t know if she was okay, or injured, or dead. 

But, truth be told, you were convinced that she was alive. 

Even on your very worst days, you had a twisted sort of optimism that Ellie was alive. You were so convinced, in fact, that you were nearly certain of it. You were sure about your girlfriend’s longstanding survival, because you were convinced that if she were to die, you would feel it. Like everything in the world would somehow stop, no matter how far away she was from you. Like your body would feel it–perhaps with a hitch in your breath, or a prickle at the back of your neck. You and Ellie were so intertwined, sometimes you were convinced that if her heart were to stop beating, yours would simultaneously cease, too. 

Regardless of your potential delusions, you grieved her. 

Nearly everything of Ellie’s had been left behind at the farmhouse. Of course, she didn’t take many of her belongings with her–why would she? 

You found solace in a gray hoodie. It was battered, truly. Ellie’s had it for years, as most people hold onto things for as long as they possibly can (just like you do with her) because items in this world are precious. Even so, Ellie’s dedication to the hoodie was practically admirable. The fabric was entirely worn–lint and little fuzzbulls littering the expanse of it. Tiny holes were worn within the fabric. Still, she had worn that thing dutifully–and now, you held onto it like a child that clings to a blanket for security. 

Your relationship with the hoodie was a tricky one, though. You wanted to hug it close to you each night, to give yourself some sort of comfort from your girlfriend… but you didn’t want the material to start smelling like you instead of her. You could very much use her soap, but then it wouldn’t be the real thing. Fraudulent. 

For the first few days of Ellie’s absence, you had been in a daze. You slept with the hoodie tucked carefully within Ellie’s side of the bed, exactly where she would be. The hoodie was now your lifeboat, taking up the space that Ellie should’ve been filling. You didn’t eat, you didn’t sleep. You had begun to mirror your missing girlfriend. 

That had been weeks ago. A few months? 

Staying on the farm wasn’t feasible, you knew that much, even if you weren’t in the most sensible state of mind. It was a lot of land–you couldn’t manage that and the animals on your own. It wasn’t necessarily safe to be on your own like that anyway–at least, in your opinion it wasn’t. You didn’t prefer it. 

For the first few days after Ellie’s departure, you had been lost within your emotions. Eventually, you knew that you had to do something. You didn’t go after her. You didn’t seek out Tommy for more information. No. Despite your own personal feelings, you would keep yourself safe, because you knew that it was what Ellie had wanted for you. You would do it for her. 

Jackson was safe. You went back to Jackson. 

Others had helped you, various trips of lugging belongings and leading animals back to the secured safety within the walls of the town. You moved back into your old place. You saw Jesse’s parents, and spent large amounts of time with Dina and her baby, JJ. He looked so much like Jesse, that sometimes it made you feel sick. 

Despite your departure from the farmhouse, you were adamant about leaving it in very fine condition. Supplies were left behind, just in case. The most valuable things of Ellie’s, you had taken to Jackson so that they could be kept safe and not be abandoned. Some things though, you had left behind. Some changes of clothes, items for getting clean… and a note. 

Nothing that would jeopardize Jackson, or the safety of the people. Just a simple nod in the right direction, just in case. 

You know where to find me. 

Just in case. Just in case Ellie really was alive, like you swore that you could feel in your bones. Just in case she decided to return. Would she? You didn’t know. You didn’t like the possibility of yourself being abandoned, and quite honestly, you didn’t view it as such. The unfortunate truth was that the situation was much bigger than yourself. Bigger than Ellie, and bigger than your relationship. You were hurt. Angry. Devastated. And yet, you couldn’t help but be understanding. Because, once again… you knew. 

The days passed by slowly and painfully, but they also managed to blur together in a haze of grief and loss. You felt weighted by it all, consistently aware that you very well may never see Ellie again. You could tell that they were trying not to do so, but people were treating you like a widow. You felt like one. Every sound in the world was bland compared to Ellie’s voice, or the way in which she would laugh when she was truly comfortable. It felt as though your heart and mind could not agree on any sort of feeling. You couldn’t get used to it, the loss of her. Your girlfriend was essentially a ghost. A ghost that you couldn’t let go of. 

And the farmhouse. 

You couldn’t get rid of that, either. 

Maria was fed up with you, you could tell. All of your coming and going. You made trips to the farmhouse–obsessively at first, and then had to be talked down to once every couple of weeks–just in case. Just in case Ellie had been there, or whatever your mind had managed to convince you of. Yes, you had left a note, but you frequently feared that it wouldn’t be enough. Again, it was your overthinking. You could also tell that Maria was tired, and her threats to put you on lockdown were in vain. Half-hearted. As long as you were safe (god forbid she lost someone else) and not potentially leading anyone back to Jackson, well… there wasn’t much that Maria could do about it, was there? You were too stubborn, apparently. Stubborn like Ellie. You had heard her mutter it once as she begrudgingly relented. 

As for the current state of your being, your mental state was… shaky. Even after time had gone by, you didn’t feel normal, didn’t feel steady on your own feet. But how could you, when half of you was missing? 

And there was that thing about timing, again. How things manage to work out, or how they don’t. 

You were at the farmhouse–lingering. 

Curled into your old space on the bed that you had formerly shared with Ellie. In Ellie’s spot was her pillow and that hoodie. Your eyes were shut, because you could imagine her presence better that way. You would not forget her face. Could not. And–you were not crazy, you would testify until you were blue in the face–you were speaking to her. 

Of course, Ellie wasn’t actually there. Of course, she could not actually hear you. Maybe, most likely, you would never be able to actually speak to her ever again. You spoke to her anyway. Stomach twisting, a weight on your shoulders, and tears forming quickly behind your eyelids–you spoke to her. Until, entirely by accident and due to the exhaustion of managing your own emotions, you had fallen asleep. 

For how long, you didn’t know. 

You jolted awake, however, due to the familiar yet startling sound of one of the wooden floorboards creaking. Before your eyes even managed to snap open, your arm had practically lunged for Ellie’s side of the bed. You had instinctively reached for your girlfriend (or rather, where she should’ve been) over your own weapon. Stupid. 

Your eyes snapped open, your blood going cold as your mind rapidly worked to process the sound. It was quiet now, but you had heard it. The house was old, settling often, but you couldn’t excuse the sound away. You reached for your gun that you had discarded onto the bedside table, and then you froze. 

Another creak. 

Like a slow, cautious step. 

You weren’t alone. You shouldn’t have come alone. You should’ve stayed in Jackson. Should’ve played with JJ over lunch, should’ve maybe finally attempted to have a proper conversation with Tommy for the first time in months– 

Footsteps, definitely. Downstairs. Not confident ones–or at least, careful ones. 

You were good at being quiet, good at cautious, usually. You slowly pulled yourself away from the bed, heart pounding as you gripped your weapon. You knew where to step, and where not to step. Without a sound, your back hugged the wall as you slowly approached the bedroom doorway. 

Your mind, however, was not being cooperative. You had no idea about the state of whoever was making those noises. This could be bad. This could be it. 

The thought caused you to falter. Maybe this should be it. Maybe it was your time (timing) and you should just relent and seek the end and see the end and let it be. Maybe, for once, something would be easy if you went down without a fight. 

You could see the indication of a human just below the stairs. You couldn’t decide whether or not you should die. You slowly crept down the stairs. You didn’t know if you had the energy to plead for your life. You raised your gun anyway, pointing it directly at the approaching figure. 

And then, every bit of air left your body. You went rigid, head dizzy. Eyes wide, the corners of your vision went hazy. Blurry. You were frozen, shoes rooted to the wooden floor as your eyes met a pair of green ones. 

Had you been killed that quickly, that Ellie was now coming to greet you in the afterlife? Had you actually gone insane, as you had admittedly pondered the possibility of a few times before? Were you stuck in a hallucination? In a dream? 

Almost immediately, your hands began to tremble. You gripped your gun tighter, not faltering with the angle in which you were holding it–pointed directly at her, a lethal shot if you were to make it. 

You were still. Ellie (?) was still. Real? Not real? You didn’t know. You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t even blink, afraid that it was false imagery and maybe the sight of her would vanish if you even briefly closed your eyes. If this was a hallucination, and your last chance to ever see your girlfriend (?) you would prolong it at any means necessary. You did not move, in case she would disappear, because you could not lose her again. 

Wide, green eyes. Hard to read. A slow hand raised. 

“You’re–” 

The word choked out of you before you could comprehend it, though it sounded more like a gasp for air. Were you suffocating? Or had seeing her actual (?) face for the first time in months finally given you back your ability to breathe? 

Your voice–even the slightest, strained sound of it–made Ellie’s heart pound almost painfully in her chest. She missed hearing it. Her ears felt like they were ringing. She was more focused on you, rather than the fact that you were aiming a gun right at her. No matter that part. You were directly in front of her, and Ellie couldn’t even speak. She’s dedicated multiple journal pages to you alone. She’s thought about what she wished that she could say to you, over and over again. Went over it in her head. Wrote it down. Whispered it to herself whenever she was trapped, waiting for a horde of an infected to pass. But now? Speechless. Terrified. Guilty. Unprepared. 

Ellie had expected an empty farmhouse–which, for the most part, it was. She had expected, maybe, a door slammed in her face. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. Not you, right here, right now. Though… it’s what she had come back for, wasn’t it? And yet, she hadn’t let herself fully believe it until now. She didn’t exactly believe it still, but it was happening. Her eyes were glued to you like you were an entity of her own salvation. 

Both of you–unmoving. It appeared like a silent stand off, when in reality it was merely two people that were unable to process what was right in front of them. 

“I–” 

Ellie’s voice cracked as she attempted to speak, hoarse from a mixture of emotion and strain. She swallowed hard, and tried again. “I…” 

Your eyes were watering. Had you blinked yet? 

The house was a confusing sight for Ellie. Some things there, some things gone. The air was thick with tension, despite the lack of ill-feelings. 

It was instinct, the way in which Ellie’s eyes quickly darted over you, as if taking inventory. Quick breathing, chest rising and falling rapidly. Frozen, rigid limbs. Shaky hands, clutching the goddamn weapon that you were still pointing at her. Not out of malice, Ellie knew. Your eyes were still wide. The sight of your dark circles made her stomach lurch. Ellie’s mind was a mess, as she had no idea what to say to you. Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t had a genuine conversation with someone in… quite a while. 

“I didn’t think you would still be here,” Ellie managed, a crease forming between her brows as she continued to study you. A truth. She did not, necessarily, expect to find you here. Did she hope for it? Yeah, more than she’d fucking like to admit. But as for the reality of it? 

The sound of Ellie’s voice hitting your ears prompted a visceral reaction from you. A sound that you had thought that you would never have the privilege of hearing again, yet you hoped for it and yearned for it every single day since she had left. 

Your physical falter did not last long, as breathless words spilled from your lips. “I thought you were dead.” A truth? You couldn’t be sure anymore. 

Ellie’s throat tightened as you spoke a full sentence. Dead? Ellie had died maybe a thousand times over throughout the last couple of years or so, but she would still find her way back to you. Anyway, she wasn’t dead. Very much alive, judging by how deeply her bones ached. 

Fingers curling into fists, Ellie’s shoulders tensed. She managed a small nod, maybe. She wasn’t sure if it translated. “I’m not.” 

“Guess not,” you croaked quietly. 

It was too much–the situation–for both of you. You looked terrified, which made Ellie feel like she had to throw up. You were standing relatively close, but you felt so far. Ellie wanted to feel your skin beneath your own, to feel some sort of warmth, but she was hesitant. 

It was the longing, really. The longing mixed with guilt that was making Ellie feel so sick. 

She tried again. “I…” 

Finally, you slowly lowered the gun. You stared at her, waiting for your brain to tell you if it was real or not, because you’ve had the same dream of seeing Ellie again countless times–only to cruelly wake up alone. You were in a daze, maybe you had been since the first time that you had woken up alone. Ellie’s attempt at speaking, though, seemed to snap something within you. 

You blinked, like your brain finally registered her presence. “Ellie?” 

Ellie sucked in a breath, her fists getting tighter. She hadn’t heard her name spoken in… how long? Hearing it from you–spoken softly, with so much fucking care, even now… it was going to undo her. Immediately, it was going to undo her. How many times had she wished to hear you say her name like that again? How many times had she desperately tried to imagine the real thing, or heard it in her dreams? Ellie swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. She didn’t know how to interpret your expression, and that made her uneasy. 

“Yeah?” Ellie replied, voice straining against the growing lump in her throat. 

For some reason, that did it for you. 

“You’re– Oh my god.” Your feet carried you with more urgency than you had moved with for months.

Ellie’s form was rigid with uncertainty–her body instinctively stiffening at the first touch. She was overwhelmed–so fucking overwhelmed. Ellie had previously been prepared for the worst, while desperately hoping for… something good, or at least anything other than the worst possible outcome that she had been somewhat anticipating. The worst possible outcome–which was… what? You telling her to leave? You being gone? Dead? 

Your body collided into Ellie’s, a force that neither of you were prepared for, yet didn’t pull back from. You hastily wrapped your arms around her, burying your face against her shoulder just as the first sob escaped from your lips.

Ellie’s form softened, just a little. Just barely. Like it was always meant to be, her arms wrapped around you in return–at first loosely, and then tight around your waist. She squeezed you once, briefly, as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. 

You clung to her. You were crying. Ellie hated herself for it. 

Your body convulsed with each sob, causing Ellie to close her eyes tightly. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip–hard–as she silently and desperately willed herself to keep it together. 

Ellie swayed on her feet, and it took her a moment to realize that you were faintly rocking her. Just as Joel used to do in moments of comfort, or how Tommy did after Joel’s death. You were sobbing against her shoulder, your form trembling, and yet you were instinctively swaying with her–your automatic attempt at comfort. Ellie bit down on her lip even harder, squeezed her eyes shut tighter. 

Every one of her senses was screaming you. The feeling of your hair. The warmth of your skin, even through the clothes. Your scent, so fucking familiar and comforting and fuck, Ellie wouldn’t cry, she would not–

“Fuck,” Ellie rasped, tightening her arms around you. Months of anguish and solitude were rapidly threatening to take over, the kind of breakdown that she hadn’t had since the beach, now approaching her much quicker than she would like to admit. 

The sounds of your breathing mixed together in the otherwise silent farmhouse–shaky, ragged, uneven. 

It took a long moment of you clinging to Ellie to realize that, technically, you didn’t even know where you stood with her. Truthfully, you never took her leaving as a breakup. You knew that the situation, and Ellie’s struggles, were much bigger than that. Silently, in your head, you still always referred to her as your girlfriend. It was only then, at that very moment, did you suddenly feel unsure about your standing. It felt trivial, compared to everything else, but the weight of it was there. 

Just as quickly as you had initiated the physical contact, you pulled away. It was sudden, like a silent, regretful apology for rushing forward and touching her like that. Ellie’s arms fell back to her sides, her body feeling numb. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. You raised fists, quickly wiping at your wet eyes with the backs of your hands. 

Ellie watched the movement, her fingers twitching restlessly at her sides. She wanted to reach for you, but she was in the exact same boat as you. She couldn’t just come back after months, and assume that she had a place with you. Couldn’t assume that you had waited for her, or that you would still want her. 

The trepidation from the both of you was fueled by circumstance. Individually, you both knew that your hearts still beat so strongly for the other person–for them and them alone, completely and wholly. Ellie knew that you were it for her. If you would not have her, she would not bother you, but her heart would remain to be yours, even if it went unused. You knew that there wasn’t a single universe where you could manage to be pulled away from Ellie. She was your person, through and through. Not once, despite every single emotion you had felt after everything, had your love for her faltered. 

You both knew that, but the situation was unprecedented. 

After dropping your hands away from your eyes, you stared at Ellie. Ellie stared back, biting the inside of her cheek. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your expression extremely troubled. You were shaking maybe even more than Ellie was. 

Ellie knew that you must have questions. A lot of them. Maybe you were going to yell at her–she would probably deserve that, too. She wouldn’t fight it. Even so, she wanted to comfort you, somehow. Wanted to soothe the dark circles that looked worse now, compared to several months ago. Wanted to grab your trembling hands in her own. 

She owed you answers. A lot of fucking answers. And yet, still, Ellie didn’t know what to say, what she could say, what she was even capable of explaining at this time. 

In a strange way, Ellie was better off now–after the beach–than she was before the beach. Her real, true, grieving process had begun as she lingered in the sand and the salty water, the physical pain so horrible that she thought she might just die there with the waves sweeping her away. 

She did not die. 

Joel was dead. Abby was alive. That ended something, while simultaneously started something. Acceptance, she supposed, while she was still in Santa Barbara. And fuck Santa Barbara, by the way–which is something that Ellie would probably eventually tell you if you allowed her to stick around long enough to do so. 

“How–?” you attempted, causing Ellie’s eyes to snap back to your own. 

“I just…” 

Ellie closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling as she forced a breath. 

In the brief, quiet moment, you continued to study her. 

Ellie was pretty cleaned up, all things considered. It made you wonder where she had been before this, if she had cleaned up specifically before there was a chance of seeing you. Her face still looked slim, in the way that it had become after Joel’s death. You could spot new scars across her skin. Faint scratches on her cheek that still had a lingering of red–somewhat new? Her hair was starting to grow out, just a bit. Her collarbones were prominent, too prominent, you almost wanted to shove some food into her mouth at once. A scratch near her collarbone. Ellie’s skin held a red hue… damaged–sunburn, it looked like. Her hands looked rough from use, and her– 

The sound of a sharp inhale caused Ellie’s eyes to fly open. Before she could determine why you had gotten so startled, you were closing the gap between your bodies and gingerly grasping her left hand. Your free hand hovered above the spot of Ellie’s missing ring and pinky fingers. 

“Ellie, what–” you breathed out, cradling her hand in your own like it was something that you needed to be careful with. 

Sometimes, Ellie had nearly forgotten about the injury, only to be brutally reminded in the most sudden, painful moments. She had adjusted rather quickly, because she had no choice. Still, she had to fight the instinct to jerk her hand away from your own, the urge to physically retreat in order to hide the raw, ugly truth of her injury from you. But she didn’t. 

Ellie clamped down on her expression, and watched your face carefully. She held still, allowing you to gingerly turn her hand over in your grasp, inspecting the healed wounds without prodding at them. Ellie’s cheeks felt hot, but she didn’t look away from you. 

You tilted your head to look at her, eyes wide with concern that you just couldn’t hide. You shook your head slightly in a silent question, your eyebrows knitted together. 

Ellie gave the slightest nod in return. Later. 

You swallowed hard, accepting her silent answer while trying to suppress the feeling of sickness that was rapidly taking over your body. Not due to the sight of her hand, but because you absolutely detested thinking about Ellie in pain. You couldn’t fathom what she could’ve possibly been through, and it made you want to cry all over again. 

You released your hold on her hand, allowing Ellie to retreat it. Your focus switched to her other hand, and you repeated the touch by carefully grasping for it. Partly just holding, and partly examining. You gingerly traced over the lines of her hand–breathing softly, eyebrows furrowed. Your gaze was fixated upon Ellie’s right hand, and Ellie’s gaze was fixated upon your face. 

The bite mark that Ellie had gotten on her right hand had certainly not been as brutal as the bite that she had originally gotten on her forearm. It had been smaller, not as deep, and therefore healed differently. Not as jagged or rippled. Honestly, it went undetected. 

But with the way in which you were so intently tracing her skin, turning her hand over and studying it, Ellie felt as though you were able to see through the surface. Like somehow, you just knew. 

“The bite,” Ellie started, her voice quiet and rough. 

Immediately, your head snapped up. “The what?” 

Ellie blinked, breath hitching at the eye contact. At once, she felt stupid for even mentioning it. “It– My hand.” 

“You’re… You got bit again?” 

You sounded a touch bewildered–maybe you could’ve been pissed if you had more energy and were in less shock. You focused your attention on her hand once more, as if you could seek out the mark. 

To be entirely honest, that bite was something that didn’t even cross Ellie’s mind. At this point, it was ancient history. A non-issue at the time, and a non-issue now. With everything that had happened, it was the very last thing on her mind. But now, seeing your concern, and your intense focus… it made her skin crawl a little. 

Silently, you were spiraling. 

“Yeah,” Ellie rasped, slightly flexing her fingers as you turned her hand over, her palm facing up. “I’m still immune, I swear,” Ellie attempted. 

You paused, your eyebrows twitching upward. “I know,” you muttered, slowly raising your gaze to meet Ellie’s eyes. “But can you stop testing your luck? You fucking… stress me out.” Despite your words, your tone was soft–voice slightly breathless. 

A faint huff escaped Ellie, like she almost felt a hint of something that resembled amusement. The comment was so utterly you, she almost couldn’t handle it. She fucking missed you. So much. 

“Trust me,” Ellie muttered, her gaze flickering across your facial features. “It wasn’t exactly on my bucket list.” 

You went briefly still, the corners of your lips just barely twitching at her dry, weak comment. Gingerly running your fingers over Ellie’s, your expression twisted. You dropped your hand, and took the smallest step back from her, despite how much you just wanted to be closer. The lack of touch was painful. 

Ellie’s hand flexed, wanting to grab your wrist or your hand and just touch you, to let herself feel safe. 

It was stupid, really. She had abandoned you, yes. But Ellie hadn’t intended for that to be what she had done. She didn’t want you to feel abandoned. She wanted you to be safe. 

“Ellie…” 

“I know.”

Minimal words were being spoken, but you understood. Of course you did. And it was enough to cause you to frown as you wrung your trembling hands. Ellie practically mirrored you, shifting her weight. 

You inhaled, trying to find any of the words that you had mulled over during her absence. Something eloquent, or understanding, or the right questions to ask. But instead, all you came up with was– 

“You scared the fucking shit out of me,” you managed, your voice breaking as you spoke. You wrapped your arms around your own torso, and Ellie ached to replace them with her own. “I thought– I really fucking thought–” 

“I know. I know, I know. Fuck, I know,” Ellie replied, her right hand raising and hovering near your arm. 

“And like, just now,” you clarified, swallowing thickly. “I heard fucking footsteps and I thought– Like, the gun–” 

“I know,” Ellie repeated, though she really, genuinely, had not expected you to be at the farmhouse. “I wasn’t– I wasn’t thinking.” 

“No shit?” you croaked. There was a hitch in your voice, something that could’ve been a very wry, dry huff of amusement, but it was entirely too faint. 

Ellie caught it anyway. 

“Yeah. Yeah, no shit. I wasn’t– I just wanted…” Ellie bit down on her bottom lip, scared to say the words, in case this was it. 

Thankfully, you knew her. You always were the more sensible one, anyway. 

“Ellie,” you said, repeating her name once more. Almost like you couldn’t hold yourself back from saying it now, due to the fact that she was actually in front of you and could respond, rather than you crying it into your pillow or pleading her name to the night sky. Ellie relished in it, wanting to hear nothing else for the rest of her life. 

You swallowed thickly, fingers digging into your own arms as you continued to hold yourself. “Is this– Are you really here? Is this–?” 

Before your sentence was finished, Ellie was nodding. She clenched her hands into fists, pulled her lip between her teeth, forehead creased–but it did absolutely nothing to relieve the lump of emotion building within her throat to the point of being overwhelming. 

“Yeah,” Ellie muttered, managing a slight, jerky nod. “Yeah, it’s–” 

You took a small step closer, your arms loosening around your form. 

“Like, are you– This is for real? You’re here?” 

“Yeah–” 

“You’re home? Ellie, are you home?” The words left you with a sob, as you took another step toward her, your face twisting due to the sudden onslaught of tears. 

“Yeah,” Ellie replied hoarsely. She shifted on her feet, right hand rubbing over her left wrist. “Yeah, I’m–” 

“You’re home for real?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I’m– I’m home. Okay? I’m fucking… I’m home.” 

The sob that you choked out was one of relief. Your arms found Ellie quickly, though she found you just as fast. Ellie buried her face in your neck, inhaling the scent of you. The scent of comfort, the scent of familiarity. The scent of home. 

You squeezed Ellie tight, and then mumbled an apology, to which she shook her head. Of course, there was so much left to be said, and so much left to be explained… but that could be later. For now, you clung together, gently rocking each other and relishing in the fact that–despite everything–there could still be this. 

It was a start, at the very least. Something sacred and real and pure to hold onto. 

Ellie was home, and she could breathe again. You both could. 

. . . . .. . . . .

god.

and she remembers EVERYTHING.

i mentioned once that i liked those stupid astronaut ice cream things they sell at science museums, y'know those ones that are shaped like different space objects- you get it. i mentioned it ONCE. fucking months ago. this morning she just dropped it on my desk and kept walking right on to her class, shit she winked at me too, my nipples got hard immediately. so like she had to have gone all the way to the museum during her free period (i was in a class which is why i wasn't glued to her side), then come all the way back… just to get me some ice cream and not say anything. what on earth is the protocol. someone really needs to write a handbook.

entry: i stared at her for an entire class period

so later in class she sat by the window. the sun was right behind her so she looked all glowy and i spent most of biology trying not to stare. keyword: trying. i failed so, so miserably. and then she caught me, should've ended me honestly, except instead of looking weirded out she just smiled. again. SHE ALWAYS SMILES. why why why why why why why? every single time she smiles at me i feel like a bobblehead. idk the comparison makes sense to me, head empty. just wobbling around. i'm pathetic.

entry: concerning developments

i think she's gotten clingier. or maybe i've finally lost my mind. both options are possible, only one is believable. she showed up at my locker before first period, not unusual i guess. except she didn't actually need anything… she just stood there. talking. about nothing. and everything. some story about her weekend, her neighbour did something funny apparently, i can't remember my brain was spiraling cause i was so nervous and confused- just completely random stuff.

okaaayy so it it posible she just wanted to talk to me? yes or no yes or no yes or no. what the fuck is my fucking problem, this shouldn’t even be that big of a deal, and i'm almost one hundred percent sure she meant nothing by it. a girl can dream though…

hmmm but like she could've talked to anyone — not that i'm everrrr complaining, If her voice were a frequency, my mind would literally be tuned to it constantly — but there were people everywhere, and she chose to be leaning against the locker next to mine, talking to me for twenty minutes before class.

i'm very aware of how hella insane i sound at the moment (or always?), no one can ever read this they seriously won't understand, fuck i don't know. it felt nice. 

entry: worst day of my life contender #47

i got paired with him. HIM. out of every person in the mother fucking class. out of the hundreds of students wandering around this school like confused livestock, i — the unlucky ellie williams — got paired with the one person i've been trying my hardest to avoid. Haven't i suffered enough already universe?

so there i was. sitting across from him (he’s not that good looking), trying to focus on the assignment. trying to act normal. trying not to think about how i've spent the last month secretly resenting a guy whose greatest crime is existing near a girl i like.

i was actually prepared to hate every second of it too. i sat down fully committed to being the least helpful project partner in recorded human history, not enough to get a bad grade though because unfortunately i care too much about school, but enough to make my displeasure known.

except this man had the fucking audacity to act like a decent guy, actually fuck off. i would've sooo preferred it if he was an asshole, because then i could've continued hating him totally guilt-free. instead he's just like an actual human being. i know shocker.

we were working for a while and then he asked how long i've known her and immediately my brain went into fight-or-flight response, keep my wifes name out yo mouth. The conversation was so unbareable, he actually knew her more than i thought he would. when he started talking, i was like okayy?? actually get the fuck outta my face right now. but turns out i'm a idiot, who's surprised at this point? not me.

apparently she tutors him in math.

math. apparently he's awful at math, he’s horrible. which i absolutely did not expect by the way — he looks like somebody who understands taxes. told me he begged her not to tell a soul cause he was embarrassed (I mean I would be too, except I’m great at math so), which explains EVERYTHING.

all those times i saw them together… after class, at luch, while i was sitting alone rotting from jealousy, they were doing algebra. yep. algebra. i was losing sleep over algebra. just took the idiot test and got a whopping 100% yayy. should we include that on my gravestone:

"here lies ellie. spent three weeks emotionally devastated by a quadratic equation." i still hate his ass.

As embarrassing as that whole thing was, it's not even half of what's occupying my mind now. because he mentioned that she talks about me a lot. and i laughed initially because obviously that's ridiculous. and he was like no, and that he really wanted to speak with me cause of it and blah blah blah.

then he started listing the things. stuff she'd allegedly said about me. how i'm funny, how i know random facts about everything, how i always pretend not to care when i actually care a lot (she knows me so well it’s scary). i have goosebumps all over my body writing this, cause this is literally exactly what he told me. I swear i can't fucking sleep i don't even know how to begin processing any of these emotions. all these feelings i have for her. she talks about me when i'm not there… like enough that somebody noticed. do you know how much you’d have to talk about someone for that to happen? it feels insane, god.

there's something weirdly intimate about that, not even in a romantic way. just... she thinks about me when i'm not around. 

oof that's a dangerous piece of information for somebody like me to have, i already started being ellie about it, where i take one tiny thing and immediately start building entire civilizations out of it. i keep imagining her mentioning me in random conversations. the thought of that is making me feel weird. good weird. bad weird? definitely both.

DON'T FUCK UP YOUR FREINDSHIP WITH HER ELLIE !!

gahhh! and then the conversation got even worse cause his ass admitted he likes her — which yeah, obviously. join the fucking club. take a number we meet on thursdays.

it actually felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest having to sit there, listening to him describe all the reasons he likes her and i couldn't even disagree. every single thing he said was true. she does make people feel important. i hate how easy it is to love her, i really do.

he told me he doesn't think she likes him back. should've made me happy, and it kind of did. fuck am i a terrible person? he's literally in the exact same situation i'm in, i know how bad it hurts, trust me i KNOW. I just… selfishly felt relieved that she didn't want him. but then he said he thinks she likes someone else. thank you for giving me a whole four seconds to bask in it before pulling the rug from under my feet. very generous. so now i'm sitting there listening to this guy talk about how great the woman I’m in love with is, who apparently has been noticing things… like there was someone specific she likes. and he said she gets distracted sometimes. like lights up when she gets a text from, what looks like the luckiest person in the world from where I’m standing. while he was talking i just sat there nodding, pretending i didn’t want to crawl into a hole or gutter or something and die.

i haven't stopped thinking about that since. somebody else. some random guy probably. some nice normal guy with nice normal guy hobbies and functioning social skills.

not me.

definitely not me.

because i'm currently sitting here at 1:13 in the morning already four tear stained pages in of my diary fuckin' journal, because a girl i'm secretly in love with apparently talks about me when i'm not around. it's never fucking over is it.

and y'know what makes me geniunely the biggest pathetic loser? after allll that, spending hours listening to a guy rave about how amazing she is, hearing that she probably has feelings for someone else, and feeling like absolute garbage all because of this one woman.. she texted me asking if i wanted to bake cookies with her tomorrow, and I’ve already forgotten about all the pain. She’s my favorite notification — my favorite everything, actually.

i'm going to sleep now, and definitely not to reread all our texts first. unrequited final boss.

— e

series masterlist

first she asked if i was okay. then if i was asleep. then if i was ignoring her on purpose. then: ellie seriously answer me. and then: look outside idiot

yes ma'am i am an idiot, and an idiot in love at that, because when i dragged myself to the window (looking like an actual corpse) THERE SHE WAS. standing outside my house. Yes physically outside. hands shoved in her pockets, rocking back and forth a little because it was cold, she's so adorable i literally forgot what i was depressed about hehe.

But real talk, i genuinely thought i was hallucinating for a second. Then she like waved at me and started talking and my mind was racing and my heart was in my ass, and she was beckoning me over, so ooobviously i ran downstairs immediately. i did make a small attempt at acting normal, lord knows i've already lost enough aura. Ended up almost falling down the last two steps, so... yeah.

Basically, couldn't get to the door fast enough. Ripped it open and oh. my. god. She’s always beautiful, but there was something about the way the tip of her nose turned all rosy from the cold that had me feeling like a moth writing love letters to a lighthouse.

First thing she did was ask if i was okay. which was already enough to make me feel insane because she CAME HERE. physically. because she noticed i was sad. i tried with the same dumb "i was just tired" excuse, that she definitely stopped buying by the fifth time i used it btw. Heh she called bullshit immediately, but she didn't look mad, just got this shimmer in her eye (yes her eyes shimmer and glow and sparkle), then said she wanted to take me somewhere. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Beginning to suspect i was not built for casual feelings.

and because i’m the easiest person alive when it comes to her no doubt, (proof is literally everywhere in this diary journal) i just said okay immediately. don't even need to ask any questions, and lowkey forgot i was trying to be nonchalant.

anyway she took me to the planetarium.

THE PLANETARIUM.

This is it, I've made it. she thinks of me outside of seeing me, and actually remembers what i like, there's absolutely no fucking way this is real. in fact i think it's far more probable that i accidentally stepped through a portal into another dimension, and this ellie gets everything she's ever dreamt about apparently. Whatever i'm not gonna fucking question it.

I'm definitely definitely not reading into anything but like… was this lowkey a date?? it was super dark and quiet inside and she sat really really close to me while all the stars were projected over the ceiling. i feel like a fucking thirteen year old girl i'm crushing on her soo bad, omg i could smell that coconuty shampoo she uses to wash her hair yummy. Wait did she was her hair before coming to see me? cause not to be creepy but i woulda clocked it immediately this morning (also i have her hair washing schedule memorised). Nope, bad ellie, not gonna read into anything.

I'm gonna pretend it was a date idc. at one point she leaned over and whispered some joke about me probably knowing more than the narrator and i was cheesing so bad i fuckin' snorted. The embarrassment i felt after that should’ve killed me instantly but she just giggled. What on earth are you doing to me.

After the show I was desperately trying to think of literally any excuse to keep hanging out with her, and by some insane cosmic miracle there was an ice cream truck parked right around the corner.

So I asked if she wanted anything and she goes:

“You know I could never say no to you.”

??????????

HUH????

Finally a win for Ellie!!! and it gets better (i know, what a day), my shoelace came untied while we were walking out and before i even noticed, my lovely wife girlfriend friend crouched down and tied it for me… ARGHH! i'm so delusional help. 

idk i must've looked like i'd just been hit over the head with a shovel to her, and sounded like it too cause i started stuttering, even i don't know what i was attempting to say fuck. good job ellie. i'm such a loser.

I obviously insisted on walking her home cause if she gets kidnapped and they don't take me with her i'll die. kidding… kinda. Anywayy, we were talking and i was enjoying the sound of her melodic voice, and luckily was able to get a few sentences out, since a part of me felt guilty that she may have felt obligated to do this. Then she got all serious and she's cute when she's serious, and she was like she wanted too.

again with this “wanted to” shit.

this girl is going to kill me.

oh and she got me a keychain. At the gift shop, took my eyes off of her for literally two seconds to go pee and she bought me a gift. It’s this tiny little planetarium keychain with Saturn on it. The rings glow in the dark. So great, now every time I look at my keys I’m going to think about her orbiting my brain 24/7.

i really don’t understand why she cares about me this much. I know she's a sweetheart but sometimes she does things that feel way too thoughtful. idk like maybe she's paying attention to me in the same way i pay attention to her?? a girl can dream right.

If i let myself believe for even one second that she could maybe possibly feel even a fraction of what i feel for her—

nah.

nope.

not doing that to myself… ugh still though. She; came to my house alone of her free will, took me to my favourite place, tied my shoelaces (yes very important). And its's possible that maybe none of it means anything to her. But it means everything to me.

— e

series masterlist

a/n: I know it’s short, just didn’t wanna take forever to post a long chapter lol, but feedback is appreciated!!

and she was smiling at him. at. him. okay she was smiling. at. him. that's fine. whatever. logically i know that means nothing, and maybe i'm reading too much into things because she smiles at everybody (cause shes an angel). I mean thats why i fell in love with her hello, not even exaggerating, if heaven is real it was created for her. for a while i was convinced she was a figment of my imagination, theres just no other way to put it; she's perfect. she’s sweet to literally everyone. that’s part of the problem. why the fuck wouldn't he have a crush on her? and if i had the confidence, i would do exactly the same thing he's doing right now.

but yuck, watching him shoot his shot was almost like watching some nameless foot soldier trying to catch Helen's eye. a completely forgettable person trying to gain the attention of the woman whose beauty could launch a thousand ships.

he kept making her laugh. i bet his jokes were ass. just guy jokes. those stupid, unfunny, typical guy jokes where they think being loud counts as having a personality. and trust me i know, i was lurking down the hall pretending to look for something in my backpack while internally experiencing the emotional equivalent of a meteor impact.

and he’s so… guy-shaped.

like tall and broad and muscular. the kind of guy girls are supposed to like. And I'm… a girl. a girl who still can't think straight because her crush touched her wrist three days ago, who doesn't know if said crush also likes girls.

But he's just a basic guy.

what if she wants that. what if she likes him back and I’m just sitting here deluding myself, writing gay little diary entries while she ends up dating some mathlete with a penis and a jawline. i actually feel so sick thinking about it. like genuinely nauseous, this isn't okay in the slightest.

then — and this is what got REALLY irritated — he put his fucking hands on her. He touched her face i don't know what the fuck he was doing and i don't fucking care, what makes him think he can caress any part of her body or stand literally anywhere near her? tf?? this guy has gotta go.

i saw it happen real time slomo, and maybe your girl kinda possibly allegedly shed a tear or two. and then went home and shed many more.  but this is all alleged i would never do that irl lol…

Anyway, back to reliving my personal hell. she didn’t move away. she just kept talking with it all polite and sweet because we've already established shes an angel. she probably doesn’t even realize when people are flirting with her. cause i've tried many- ok lemme not lie i've actually never had the courage so i can't make that argument sigh. but for my sanity and peace of mind i'm gonna say that she had absolutely no idea and was just being nice. right? help me.

To be real i wanted to walk over there so bad. not even to say anything coherent. just to stand next to her like, idk a jealous guard dog. maybe bite him a little. i didn't tho, since i was allegedly crying and, let's be real, it would have made it awkward.

i hate this. i hate jealousy. it makes me feel ugly and weird and possessive in this awful embarrassing way. she’s not mine. she can talk to whoever she wants. but the idea of her liking somebody else actually makes my chest hurt.

especially a GUY.

because what do i even compete with there?? he can probably flirt normally without looking like he’s about to throw up. he probably doesn’t spend hours analyzing every smile she gives him. he probably just says things and they come out cool and easy. oh and the lets not forget the most important one… you guessed it, he has a dick. he looks like one too.

how the actual fuck did i get myself into this fuckass dumbass stupidass situationnnnnnnn.

and he kept making her laugh. it keeps replaying in my head now. her tilting her head back, carefree and radient. He does not deserve to hear it. he shouldn't be standing there looking smug. should i kill him. i'm very much considering it now.

afterward when she came over to talk to me i (obviously) acted weird because i was still jealous and she noticed IMMEDIATELY. like one look at my face and started asking was asking if i was okay.

she looked genuinely concerned, there was this little frown on her face, i hate being the one to put that there, i don't want her worried about me, i want her to literally always be happy. i was just doing my hardest not to ask “do you wanna kiss him??” i just shrugged it off and said i was tired.

she didn't buy it, but she never pushes. said i should sleep more because i’ve been looking exhausted lately. Suddenly i felt even worse, because she's over here wanting the best for me, when all i've been doing the last twenty minutes is planning that guy’s (who she probably unfortunately likes) extinction.

god.

if she ever dates a man my soul will die.

friday

I didn’t immediately consider arson today so that’s progress. i hate that fucking guy, no i am not over it. she talked to him again though. briefly. just “hi” and some normal school thing blah blah blah, i had to stop myself from throwing up in the hallway.

did he do anything to me? no. Do i still hate him with every atom in my body? of course i do. you know what else i hate? i hate that i care this much. I am doing EVERYTHING i can to try and be normal about this ughh. i can't do it i can't i can't i can't. it probably would have been easier if i hadn't already chosen the floral arrangements for our wedding. how on earth do i get rid of this guy fuck.

she came and sat with me later and it was like my nervous system forgot how to be angry. she just… does that. she shows up and suddenly every problem i have feels distant and stupid.

she asked me if i was still thinking about the project or if i was just “staring into space again.” i said i was thinking. technically not a lie. just didn’t specify what about.

she laughed and said i do that a lot.

yeah. i do.

because you exist.

sunday

I can't sleep. i keep replaying every small thing she does.

like today she fixed my collar again without asking. just reached over, straightened it, she said i looked pretty. and then went back to her notes. y'know i really couldn't tell ya what happened after that cause i don't know. i don't even know what happened before she did that cause i no longer remember. hahahahahahahahahhahahafuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. um yeah i almost kissed her, i really really wanted too and i did lean in and like i think i said something along the lines of "you're even prettier" (ellie with the rizz? ik i shocked myself), and then she like, fuck she blushed she looked so irresistible annnnndthen the stupid bell rang and she ran away from me to go to the bathroom or sth. holy missed opportunity, i hate myself.

i think about her hands a lot. too much. also.

not in a platonic way, but yeah, it's like my brain has decided they are important information that must be constantly archived. and her voice. the way she says my name in this really simple way like bark, woof woof. it makes my stomach drop every time.

i try fantasising about what it would be like if she liked me. like actually actually liked me back. not just being freindly. it feels unrealistic. like thinking about dinosaurs still being alive or humans living on mars. possible in theory maybe but not in my life.

still. i keep thinking about it. what if she looked at me like i look at her. i don’t think i’d survive it. she's too good for me anyway.

tuesday

he was there again. Mr fucking wise guy with the loud obnoxious-ass voice.

he walked her to part of her locker area after class and they were talking and giggling, and i felt that horrible drop in my chest again like my body still hasn’t accepted reality. i tried to leave early so i didn’t have to see it but she saw me first and waved me over, like nothing is wrong. like i'm not wasting away on the inside because of her.

There's no way in hell i could ever ignore her so, against my better judgement, i went over to them. and she introduced me. casually. like “oh this is ellie, we’re working on a project together.”

just… this is ellie.

not “this is my friend ellie” or "this is the girl who i'm in a one sided homoerotic relationship with" or anything. just my name. that stung. he said hi. i think i said hi back. i don’t really remember because my brain was overheating.

then she turned to me and started talking about the project like normal and i just nodded along pretending i was a functioning human being while this guy stood there watching. it felt weird. like being replaced in real time, even though it's not like there was anything solid to replace apparently, so…

after he left she stayed with me for a bit and asked why i looked stressed. i almost told her. almost said, “because i think you might like him and i hate it.” she has no idea. she’s trying to make things easier without even knowing what’s wrong.

I'm writing this, rotting in my bed after doing literally nothing but crying all day. maybe i'll call her? idk what to do, but i need to know if i have even the slightest chance here. If i don't i'll have no choice but to move on. shit i don't want to think about that.

— e

Series masterlist

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cele's note:

ok so tumblr decided to lock me out of my account for DAYS for absolutely no reason so while i was away i made this. ughhh i love them so much 😭

bittersweet was supposed to be just an one shot but the brainrot is getting worse and worse with each passing day... seriously i can't stop thinking abot them

here's a moodboard i made for bittersweet + this in case you want to check it out ♡ if you have any reqs about them pls send them my way...

p.s: this is full of grammatical mistakes okay !! let's just ignore them <3

p.s ii: click here 4 more texts 😼