pryncess !! (#1 Vi Simp)

As kids, you stayed up late, whispering through walkie-talkies, confiding in each other when the world outside had fallen asleep. You talked about the little things—divorces, toothaches, birthdays—but also about things only kids could understand. Then, as time went on, the topics changed. Middle school arrived, and the talk shifted to crushes and gossip. Did you hear James likes Lexi? Did you know the weird kid got detention for throwing a pencil?

Time marched forward, and the seasons turned. Middle school gave way to high school, and with it came an evolution of your friendship. The late-night whispers started to carry weight—those unspoken feelings between you two growing stronger. But neither of you ever said a word about it. It just felt like part of the connection you had, part of the bond that seemed unshakable.

Whether it was sneaking into the quiet corners of the library, walking laps around the track after school, or hiding under the bleachers where you could just be yourselves, your friendship remained constant. It was the kind of bond everyone noticed—the kind they couldn’t help but question. At first, when people asked if there was more between you two, it felt awkward. You just shrugged it off. You were close, sure, but that was normal, right? But over time, those questions started to linger. Was it strange to be so close to someone? Was it... strange? Did you like her?

As you sit beside her on the bleachers, your gaze drifts to Ellie. Her auburn hair falls in front of her face as she focuses on her phone. She feels your eyes on her, glances up, and in that moment, time seems to slow. Her hair catches in the breeze, and the noise of the football game fades into the background. The world narrows, and for a second, it's just the two of you.

A beat passes, and then Ellie flashes a playful smile. "School rotting your brain that much?" she teases, her voice pulling you back to reality. 

You let out a nervous laugh, the sound a little too shaky, too loud in the quiet space between the distant roar of the game and the scattered chatter of the other students around you. "For sure... yeah," you reply, your voice rougher than you intended, trying to play it off. But even as the words leave your mouth, you feel something shift. It’s like the moment drags, stretches out, and suddenly, you’re aware of everything: the way her auburn hair catches in the light, the soft curve of her lips, and the way her laugh lingers in the air like a melody you can’t get out of your head.

You force yourself to look away, but it’s like her gaze is pulling you back in, an invisible force you can’t escape. Gravity. That’s what it feels like, her eyes anchoring you to the present, making everything else blur. She’s pretty. She’s funny. And now, with every glance, every conversation, your heart races a little faster, your stomach doing flips you don’t know how to explain.

You try to brush it off, but it’s like a crack in the dam, and the question starts to flood in, taking over every thought. You can’t ignore it anymore. Shit... do I like her more than a friend?

That night, you tried to shrug it off. You convinced yourself it was just overthinking—or maybe the onset of some strange sickness you couldn’t quite shake. You hoped sleep would clear your head, that morning would make it all go away. But when you woke up and saw her waiting at the bus stop, everything froze. Your world. Or rather, your heart. It was as if it stopped working the moment your eyes landed on her. You had opened a door you couldn’t close. There was no going back now.

It crept in, this new feeling—unwanted, yet undeniable. Sitting beside her on the bus felt different now, like every moment stretched out, every second hanging heavier than before. The way her thigh brushed against yours when the bus jolted or turned—it left something inside you craving more. It was a subtle thing, but every touch, every shared glance, made you ache in ways you couldn’t explain.

You started noticing everything. The way she moved, the little things she said, the sound of her laugh—it was like each moment with her was magnified, every detail etched into your mind. You found yourself scrolling through her social media more than you ever had, fixated on how she interacted with the world, with her friends, with her daily life. And you couldn’t stop. It was like each new detail was a breadcrumb, a trail you couldn’t help but follow, but it only led to more confusion, more uncertainty.

It also led to a sickening sense of self-disgust. This was your best friend, the person you’d known forever. To be thinking about her like this, to be wanting her like this, felt wrong. It felt like a betrayal—not just to her, but to the friendship you’d built, the bond that was supposed to be untouchable. The whole ordeal ended when you decided to keep it to yourself, to keep the friendship alive. You’ll get over it, everyone has a crush on their close friend. It’s fine. 

You now sit beside her in science class, the two of you sharing one of those dark top desks every science class seem to have. You open your pencil case and pass her a stick of gum, “want any?” 

She looks up from her notebook, her eyes meeting yours for just a moment before she gives you a small, amused smile. “Sure, thanks.” 

You pull out a piece of gum, your fingers brushing hers for just a moment as you pass it to her. The touch is light, almost imperceptible, but it sends a ripple through your chest, the warmth of her skin lingering on your fingertips, a spark igniting that leaves you trying to swallow down a nervous breath.

She unwraps the gum, slipping it between her lips with a casual ease. Your eyes flicker to what she's holding, and you realize that it’s the homework due in class today.

A grin tugs at the corner of your lips, almost involuntary. “Want to take a look at mine?” you ask, leaning slightly toward her.

For a moment, she hesitates, her gaze flickering to yours, but then the tension melts from her face. Her lips curve into that small, unassuming smile of hers that you’ve seen a hundred times. “Yeah,” she says quietly.

You slide your notebook toward her, the pages rustling faintly as she begins copying your answers, her pen moving quickly, expertly. You watch her, propping your head on your hand, the seconds ticking.

“You’ve got two minutes left,” you murmur, a hint of mischief creeping into your voice.

She sighs, not even glancing up, her focus still on the two notebooks. “You’re only stressing me out more. Cut it out,” she says with a half-smile, voice soft but teasing.

A laugh hovers at the back of your throat, but you bite it back, content to just watch her. The scribbles of her messy handwriting fill the page, and you can almost hear the steady beat of her concentration. Then, the bell rings, sharp and final, and she lets out a muttered curse under her breath. She drops her pen with a soft thud, clearly frustrated.

“I’m surprised,” you say, your voice low and almost too soft as you pull your notebook back into your hands. The words hang in the air, charged with something between curiosity and amusement. “Or should I not be? You’ve been doing this for years. When will you just… do it?”

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, and for a split second, there's a spark of defiance, a quiet challenge in the way her gaze locks with yours. But then, as if it’s second nature, that familiar smile tugs at her lips.

The rest of the class moves like clockwork, a blur of notes being passed, the teacher's voice rising and falling like background music. When the bell rings and the lunch period begins. The hallways hum with the noise of students as you all make your way to lunch. On your way to your usual spot, you pass the corkboard outside your classroom—and there it is.

A poster for prom.

It’s bold and colorful, almost jarring against the otherwise drab hallway. The sparkling letters proclaim “Prom: A Night in New York!” Your eyes linger for a moment, catching the way the glittering text seems to mock you with its flashy promises. Ellie, however, wouldn’t even notice it if you didn’t point it out. Ellie lets this pass her by, doesn’t give it a second thought. She never cared much for those things, the dances, the traditions. Prom had always seemed like a distant idea, something that flew right past her without so much as a glance. You don’t even ask, knowing her answer. 

But this year? Your last year before you both go off to college? Possibly. 

You sit down across from her, and there’s a pause in the conversation. You catch yourself staring at her, the words weighing on your tongue before you even realize they’re there.

"Ellie," you begin, your voice tentative, just loud enough to cut through the chatter around you. "You gonna go to prom this year?"

She looks up, surprised by the question, her brow furrowing slightly. There’s a flicker of something in her eyes—a mix of skepticism and amusement, like she’s trying to figure out why you’re asking in the first place.

"Prom?" she repeats, as if she can’t quite place the word in her mind. "You’re joking, right?"

You shrug, trying to play it casual, but there’s something about this that feels... different. You haven’t really talked about it before. The idea of prom wasn’t even on your radar until you saw that damn poster.

“I don’t know,” you say, picking at the edge of your sandwich. “It’s kind of a big deal, right? I mean... it’s the highlight of the year.”

Ellie’s lips curl into that small, half-amused smile again, but it’s different this time. It’s softer, almost like she’s looking at you through a new lens, one you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her through before.

"Yeah, right," she mutters dryly. "Prom? It’s a scam for people to waste money on a one-night event.”

"But that’s part of the fun," you tease, nudging her shoulder lightly. "You get dressed up, pretend like it’s the best night of your life. You know, the usual high school stuff."

She cuts you off with a sharp look and a flick of her wrist, dismissing your words. "No thanks," she says, her voice firm. "Not interested."

The finality in her tone catches you off guard. You scoot back, feeling the faintest pang of disappointment, but you try to hide it, focusing instead on your food, not wanting to dwell on the fact that this might be the first time you’ve ever really wanted her to change her mind about something. You wanted her to go with you. It might be the last memory you really create with her. Who knows if your friendship can last through college. 

It’s been four days since that lunch, four days since you threw the question out there and Ellie shut it down so quickly, so definitively. Her words still echo in your mind, that dry, dismissive tone when she said, “Prom? It’s a scam for people to waste money on a one-night event.” You tried to brush it off, tried to hide the disappointment that gnawed at you when she cut you off with that sharp look.

You had wanted her to go, wanted to create some last memory with her before everything changed, before life inevitably pulled you both in different directions. Prom might not be the grand event everyone else makes it out to be, but for you, it would’ve been a way to do something together—something that felt like it mattered.

But Ellie wasn’t interested. She never has been. She’s always been too cool for the glitter, the sparkles, the traditions. And part of you gets it.

But part of you also doesn’t.

The rest of the week has passed by like a blur—school, homework, fleeting glances shared between you two in the halls, and the quiet hum of routine that has become so familiar, so comfortable. You both fall into your familiar rhythm, but there’s an undercurrent of something different. You’re not sure if it’s just the prom pressure getting to you, or if it’s something else entirely, but the whole situation is starting to feel heavier than it should.

Now it’s after school, and you’ve realized you forgot something in your locker. You’ve got the entire building mostly to yourself, the hallways empty as you make your way back to the locker room. The noise of students leaving for the day is distant, the chatter fading as you turn the corner toward the back exit.

As you step outside, you spot her—Ellie. She’s standing by the football field, arms crossed over her chest, looking out at the empty bleachers. For a moment, you freeze. There’s something about the way she’s standing there, alone, her usual indifference plastered on her face, that makes you hesitate.

You start walking toward her, thinking you’ll maybe finally ask her again. Ask her about prom, or at least about why she shot it down so fast, as if it was something beneath her. Maybe you’ll bring it up again, tell her you really want her to go, and that you’d like to go with her—just the two of you, together.

But as you draw closer, your eyes catch something that makes your stomach lurch.

A girl approaches Ellie, someone you’ve seen around but never really talked to. Rachel Stevens. A cheerleader. She’s the kind of girl everyone else gravitates toward, the one who gets whatever she wants with a smile and a flutter of lashes. Pretty eyes, a body that’s shot through puberty early. You’ve never ever seen Ellie and Rachel together before, so seeing them now, with Rachel walking up to her, feels... off. It stirs something in you, your feet coming to a stop. 

And then, just like that, Rachel speaks.

“Hey, Ellie!” she says, her voice bright, too cheerful.

Ellie looks over at her, her expression giving away some shock seeing her talk to Ellie. Rachel takes a step closer, clearly comfortable in her skin, while Ellie just stands there, quiet, unbothered. Then, Rachel says it.

“So… I was thinking about prom… and I wanted to ask if you’d go with me?” Her words hang in the air and your heart feels like it falls out of your chest.

But before you can even think to process it, before Ellie can respond, your feet are already moving. It’s like something inside you snaps, like the sight of Rachel asking Ellie to prom is a punch in the gut that you didn’t see coming. Your pulse races, your head swims with something too complicated to name, and your body reacts before your mind has the chance to catch up.

You turn and run.

You don’t stop to see what Ellie says or if she accepts. You don’t stick around to watch how Rachel stands there, probably expecting an answer as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. You don’t want to hear it. You don’t want to know. You can’t.

The sound of your shoes pounding against the pavement feels deafening, and your breath comes out in quick bursts as you push yourself harder. You don’t care where you’re going now, just away. You don’t stop running until your lungs burn and your legs feel like jelly.

You can’t believe it. 

You can’t believe it. The moment Rachel asked her—Rachel Stevens, of all people—everything inside you snapped. You didn’t know it would hit you like this, like a brick to the chest. You didn’t realize how much it would hurt to see Ellie, your Ellie, suddenly standing there, caught up in the orbit of someone like Rachel.

You just wanted to make a memory. Just once. You wanted her to say yes, even if it was just to go with you to prom, to have a normal high school experience like everyone else. You thought, maybe, you could get through this last year without feeling like things were slipping through your fingers. But now, standing there watching Rachel’s bright smile and Ellie’s cool, unreadable face, it all feels so impossible.

You’re not sure why you start running. Maybe it’s instinct, maybe it’s fear. You don’t know. All you know is that you can’t bear to stay there, to hear the answer Ellie might give, or worse, to see Rachel take her from you.

You don’t stop until you’re outside the school gates, panting, your legs aching, your chest tight. You feel like you're suffocating, like everything you’ve been trying to hold together is unraveling with every step you take away from her. The thought of Ellie—of her—with someone else, someone like Rachel, makes your stomach twist.

You make your way to your car, your fingers fumbling as you unlock it. You don’t even care that the sky is darkening, that the day is slipping away. You get in, slam the door shut, and rest your forehead against the steering wheel, fighting the wave of emotions that’s threatening to drown you.

You take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. You feel everything right now. The hurt, the jealousy, the frustration. It’s like a hurricane in your chest, all of it churning and spinning, and you don’t know how to stop it. You don’t know how to calm it down.

Your throat tightens as the tears start to fall, unbidden, and for the first time in so long, you let them. It’s hard to breathe through the sobs, hard to focus when your mind is spiraling, when the world feels like it’s crashing in. You try to tell yourself that it’s just prom, that it doesn’t matter, that it’s just one night. But deep down, you know it’s not about prom. It’s about Ellie. It’s about the fact that she might never see you the way you see her, and it’s about the bitter reality that you’re not the one she’s going to. You’re not the one she’s choosing.

You don’t know how long you sit there, staring at the empty school parking lot, trying to pull yourself together. Finally, you take a shaky breath and wipe your face, trying to calm the storm inside. You can’t stay in the car forever.

You start the engine, the hum of the car’s engine filling the space, but everything feels hollow, distant. The drive home is a blur, your mind too occupied with the image of Ellie standing there with Rachel. You try to push it away, but it’s everywhere. The image won’t leave you. You can’t escape it.

Later that night, you’re lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You hear the walkie talkie under your pillow rear to life, hearing the static then her voice. With a sigh, you reach for it and pull it to your lips. 

“Hey Els,” you say, voice soft, a little scratchy from crying. 

“Hey,” her voice comes through, soft but clear. It’s the same voice, the one you’ve grown used to over the years, the one that’s become a constant in your life.

“What’s up?”

There’s a long pause on the other end. You can hear her shifting, maybe curling up in bed just like you. “I have something to tell you…. Some tea, like grade A tea.”

You swallow hard, your chest tightening. The last thing you want to do is talk about Rachel, about what just happened, but Ellie’s voice is warm, and it makes the vulnerability inside you flare up.Another long pause, but this time, you can hear the uncertainty in her tone. “So… Rachel asked me to prom today.”

Your heart skips a beat. For a second, everything goes quiet in your mind, and all you can focus on is the words she’s saying. Rachel Stevens. Prom.

You force a smile, but it feels like it’s miles away from your face. “That’s… that’s cool. That’s crazy,” you say, trying to make your voice sound genuine, like it doesn’t hurt. Like it doesn’t feel like your heart is sinking into your stomach. And for a second, your heart twists, like you want to hope, like you want to believe there’s a chance that maybe, just maybe, she's said no.

But then, just like that, the silence falls between you again, and you’re left swallowing back what you really want to say. Then Ellie’s voice cuts through again. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you reply, swallowing hard, fighting the tears that are threatening to fall again. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

You lie back down, staring at the ceiling, your chest tight, your heart heavy. The storm inside you refuses to settle. You don’t know what’s going to happen, don’t know if she’ll say yes to Rachel or if she’ll choose something else, but all you can feel right now is the growing weight of something you can no longer ignore.

You like her. You’ve liked her for so long, and now she’s standing at the precipice of a decision that could pull her away from you forever. And you’re terrified you’re already too late.

The next day is a blur.

 You hear Rachel’s voice, loud and confident, in the hallway. She’s talking to a group of people, her words casual, but her tone bites. You catch part of the conversation.

“She’s just a background character, y’know? I don’t know why everyone’s acting like Ellie’s this... special project. She’s just here to make me look better,” Rachel says, her voice dripping with condescension.

You freeze in your tracks. The anger swells inside you, a knot tightening in your gut. Ellie doesn’t deserve to be talked about like that. You want to say something, to defend her, but you just walk away. There’s no point.

Later, after school, you find yourself with Ellie at the neighborhood playground. The sunset casts a warm orange glow over everything, and for a moment, it feels like the world is holding its breath. You both sit on the swings, the chains creaking under your weight. It’s quieter here, and you can finally let yourself breathe.

But the words have been building inside you all day. You can’t stay silent anymore.

“Ellie,” you start, your voice tentative, but you know you have to say it. “I don’t think Rachel has your best interests at heart.”

Ellie looks at you then, but only for a second. There’s a hint of something in her eyes—something that isn’t anger, but it’s close. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, her voice guarded.

“I heard what she said,” you continue, your words coming out faster than you planned. “She doesn’t care about you. She’s using you. She just wants to make herself look better. You don’t deserve to be part of her game.”

Ellie shifts on the swing, her fingers gripping the chains harder now. “That’s not what’s going on,” she says, her voice tight, defensive. “Rachel asked me to prom because she wants to, okay? You don’t know anything about it.”

You try to speak, but Ellie cuts you off before you can even get a word out. “Why do you care so much all of a sudden?” she asks, her voice sharp and defensive. “Is this about you not getting what you wanted? You jealous I’m getting attention from someone else? You’re mad I didn’t say yes to you?”

The words hit you hard, and for a moment, you just stand there, stunned. Your heart races, a mix of hurt and anger swelling up from somewhere deep inside. You want to explain yourself, want to tell her how much it stings to see her casually talking about going with someone else, but it all comes out in a rush, a wave of emotion you can’t control.

“Well, it seems like you’re reconsidering going with her instead of me,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended. “I thought you didn’t care about prom. So why does it feel like you're suddenly okay with it? I’m your friend, Ellie! I’ve been your friend for years.”

Ellie’s expression hardens, her eyes narrowing. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” she mutters, her tone bitter. “I haven’t even said anything to Rachel yet.” 

After that, you felt a heaviness in your chest that refused to let go. The harshness of Ellie’s words still lingered, cutting deeper than you cared to admit. You stared out your window, your gaze unintentionally drawn to her house down the street. The glow of her lamp flickered through the curtains, a sign that she was still up. You let out a quiet sigh and brushed the curtain aside, watching for a moment. There was something about seeing her awake at this hour, almost like a reminder that you were both in this strange, quiet space of uncertainty. You closed the curtain again, the weight of it all pressing on you.

The silence in the air felt heavier than it had ever been before. You barely noticed the music or the laughter of your classmates—it was all drowned out by the weight of everything left unsaid. As Ellie and Rachel talked, your mind raced. Was she really moving on? Was she going to prom with someone else? The worry gnawed at you, and you couldn’t fight the sinking feeling that maybe you’d been replaced.

And then, Ellie’s gaze found yours. The look in her eyes—concern, guilt, maybe even a little confusion—was enough to shatter what little composure you had left. But before you could process it all, you turned and rushed away, feeling the hot sting of tears gathering in your eyes. You didn’t know where you were going, just that you needed to get away from everyone and everything.

Under the bleachers, the noise of the crowd above felt like a distant hum. You sat down, your hands trembling, and let the tears fall. It was a quiet, soft cry—more from confusion and regret than from real anger. You wished you hadn’t made the assumptions you did, but it was too late to take it back.

You didn’t hear her approach until she spoke softly, her voice tinged with concern. “I knew I’d find you here.”

You looked up, startled, wiping your eyes quickly to try to hide the evidence of your vulnerability. Ellie stood just a few feet away, her expression soft, but you could see the traces of hurt in her own eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, your voice small. “For the way I… acted yesterday. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I was only trying to help”

Ellie took a step closer, her gaze sincere, and she sighed. “No, it’s okay. I didn’t give you the chance to explain, and I should’ve done better. I just felt cornered..’

There was a pause, both of you standing there under the bleachers in a space that felt like the only place you could be, away from the chaos of the night.

Ellie leaned back against the metal frame, crossing her arms loosely, and for the first time in a long while, you saw that familiar ease in her posture. “How’s Rachel?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual, though the anxiety still lingered.

Ellie’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “I wouldn’t know,” she said, her voice light. “I turned her down.”

Your eyes widened, and the embarrassment hit you all at once. You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest. Ellie smiled wider, a little mischievous and a little warm all at once. “I came for you.”

It was like a weight lifted off your chest, a quiet relief washing over you, but you didn’t know what to say. Instead, you just stood there, feeling the awkwardness of the moment shift into something a little more comfortable, a little more familiar.

Ellie pushed off the bleachers and took a small step closer, her gaze still steady on yours. “Look, I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. I don’t know what came over me, hormones maybe.” 

You met her gaze, the last remnants of uncertainty slowly fading. “I appreciate that. I wasn’t trying to not give you freedom to go with someone else than me. It was dumb of me to just assume.” 

Ellie nodded, her smile softening. “Let’s forget about it. Okay?”

You nodded back, and the tension between you started to ease. It wasn’t all fixed, not yet, but maybe, just maybe, you could start again.

Ellie steps a little closer, the familiar tension between you slowly fading, replaced by something new, something fragile but real. Her gaze is steady, but there’s a flicker of something behind her eyes, a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen before. She lets out a small sigh, the words clearly not coming easy.

"Okay," Ellie starts, her voice softer than usual, "there’s something I’ve been meaning to say. I... I was going to ask you to prom, you know? A while ago. But I chickened out." She pauses, running a hand through her hair, avoiding your eyes for a second. "I wanted to, really. But then you... you sort of asked me first, and I just figured... well, maybe you didn't want to go with me like that. Like, maybe you only wanted to go as friends."

You blink, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Your heart stutters, and suddenly the air between you feels electric.

"You wanted to ask me?" you echo, the disbelief making your voice crack just a little. The words don’t seem to make sense in your mind. You thought you were the only one holding onto something more. “But... you didn’t think I’d...?”

Ellie rolls her eyes, clearly frustrated with how her words are coming out, but there’s something else there, too. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks down for a second, like she’s trying to find the courage to admit something that’s been bubbling under the surface for far too long.

"Yeah, I mean—did you not just hear me?" she says, rolling her eyes again but with a playful undertone. "I wanted to take you to prom. More than friends. I didn’t want to be all... awkward about it, but that’s the truth. I didn’t want to do it if you didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want to make it weird, and then... then you went and assumed all this other crap about me and Rachel. And I just... I just got mad, okay?"

You stare at her for a long moment, your mind scrambling to make sense of everything she’s just said. You feel like you’re hearing the words but can’t quite process them fast enough. But then, it clicks. Ellie wants you. Not as a friend. She wants to be with you.

The realization surges through you, faster than anything you’ve felt before. Without thinking, without even processing what’s happening, you find yourself jumping up from where you were standing. Your breath catches in your throat, and you don’t even care that the world around you has faded away.

"Wait," you say, the excitement bubbling up in your chest. "So... you like me?"

Ellie looks at you, her eyes soft and a little incredulous, like she can’t believe you’re asking. "Did I not just—" She stops herself and sighs in exasperation. "Yes, I like you! I’ve liked you for a while now. Are you really that oblivious?"

Before she can say anything more, you can’t help it—you don’t even think, just feel. You move, closing the distance between you in an instant.

And then, before you can second-guess yourself, you kiss her. It’s not perfect or planned. It’s full of everything you’ve both been holding back. Her lips are warm, and for the first time in what feels like forever, everything feels right. The weight of your insecurities, the distance between you, the silent years of wondering... it all melts away in that one, stolen moment.

Ellie pulls back slightly, a laugh escaping her lips. She’s still flushed, but there’s a light in her eyes that wasn’t there before, something brighter, something real.

"Well, I didn’t think you’d be this excited," she says, a teasing edge in her voice, but her smile is so wide that it makes your heart race.

You grin back, breathless from the kiss, but feeling lighter than you have in so long. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that," you admit, still smiling.

Ellie leans in again, pressing her forehead to yours. "Me neither," she murmurs, and for the first time in ages, the world feels like it’s finally fallen into place. She tilts her head again to kiss you, initiating it this time. With the wind blowing against the two of you, the loud sounds of Rhianna and kids your age screaming there you stood kissing under the bleachers. 

Ellie’s hands are on your hips, firm but gentle, as she pulls you closer. Her lips are still warm from the kiss, and the heat of her body against yours is almost too much to bear. The wind howls around you, the noise of the crowd above fading into the background as she leans in again, her mouth capturing yours with a hunger that surprises you. Her tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and you moan softly into her mouth, your hands tangling in her hair.

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky. Her fingers trail down your side, sending shivers through your body. “How long I’ve wanted you.”

You’re breathless, your heart racing as you stare at her. “Ellie…” you whisper, your voice trembling. But before you can say more, she’s kissing you again, her hands roaming over your body with a confidence that makes your knees weak.

“As soon as I saw you in this dress earlier, I thought about slipping it off you.” 

Her lips trail down your jaw, and then down your neck, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there. You gasp, your head tilting back as her hands grip your hips tighter. “Els…” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. You tug her hair, head falling back as your bodies contort together. 

She smirks against your skin, her breath hot as she presses a kiss to the base of your throat. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” she murmurs, her hands sliding up to the hem of your dress. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long…”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as she starts to push your dress up, her hands brushing against your thighs. “Ellie, what—” you start, but she cuts you off with a kiss, her tongue sliding against yours as she hooks one of your thighs over her shoulder.

Your breath catches in your throat as she lowers herself to her knees in front of you, her hands running up your thighs. “Just relax,” she says softly, her breath warm against your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

You can feel the wetness between your legs already, and when her fingers brush against the lace of your panties, you can’t help but whimper. She pulls them to the side, her breath hot against your core, and then her tongue is on you, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit.

You gasp, your hands gripping her hair as she starts to eat you out with a fervor that leaves you breathless. Her tongue circles your clit, teasing it lightly before sucking it into her mouth. You moan, your hips bucking against her face as she starts to fuck you with her tongue, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady.

“Shit, Ellie…” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. She hums against you, the vibration sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. Her tongue moves faster, her lips closing around your clit as she sucks and licks, her fingers teasing your entrance.

You can feel the orgasm building inside you, threatening to tip you over the edge. “Ellie, I’m so close…” you whimper, your fingers tightening in her hair. She looks up at you, her eyes dark with lust, and then she’s pushing two fingers inside you, curling them just right as her tongue flicks against your clit.

You come with a cry, your body shuddering as the pleasure washes over you. Ellie doesn’t stop, her fingers thrusting inside you as her tongue continues to tease your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you’re trembling in her arms.

When she finally pulls away, you’re breathless, your legs shaking as she lowers your thigh from her shoulder. She looks up at you, a smirk playing on her lips. “You taste so good,” she says, her voice low.

You blush, your cheeks burning as you look down at her. “Ellie…” you whisper, but she’s already standing, pulling you into a kiss that leaves you dizzy.

“Let’s get out of here,” you murmured against her lips, your hands sliding down to her waist. She laughed softly as you took her by the hand, dragging her with a need that she couldn't wait to fulfill.

Middle school Ellie, who starts to get a little less possessive after that. Who still gets called names but shrugs it off, and who ignores the odd nauseas feeling she gets when a boy asks you out. And who goes home to cry when you get asked to be someone’s valentine and say yes.

Middle school Ellie, who starts distancing herself when she realizes she has a crush on her best friend. Who in the process absolutely shatters your heart, because why doesn’t she wanna be your friend anymore.

Middle school Ellie, who’s doing a really good job at not bothering you and suppressing whatever she’s got going on until she over hears you ranting to a group of girls about how sad you are. how you miss your best friend , and don’t know what you did wrong. She shows up at your house the next day and pulls some lie out of her ass about why she’s been so distant. Who’s little thirteen year old heart flutters when you give her a hug for the first time in weeks.

High school Ellie, who has come to terms with being in love with you. Who thinks she’s doing a really good job at hiding it but the closet has been glass since elementary. Even you know she’s gay, you just haven’t figured out who she likes.

High school Ellie, who gets her first girlfriend sophomore year. Her name is Dina, she’s an angel, and for some god forsaken reason you can’t brings yourself to like her. You yourself don’t even know why. Not till you all end up hanging out in a group of friends and you see the way Ellie’s hand sits on her waist, or pushed the hair out of her face. That’s when you realize, you wish it was you instead.

High school Ellie, who thinks maybe this is her karma for those few weeks in middle school when you start avoiding her. And she’s the one who wants to know what she’s done, hell her chasing you around got so bad Dina dumped her. And while she’s mildly upset, really doesn’t care as much as she should because she misses you instead.

High school Ellie, who backs you into a corner while you’re walking home, not her best look, and asks you why you’re avoiding her. Who takes great offense when you tell her to go hang out with her girlfriend and corrects you saying Ex immediately followed by a “what the fuck is your problem”. And who blue screens when you grab her face and smash your lips into hers before rebooting and breathing you in like it’s the first gasp of air she’s had in her entire life