Their patrol started like most of them did.
Cold morning air. Frost still clinging to the fence posts outside Jacksonâs gates. Horses shifting under their saddles while they waited for the rest of the riders to clear out.
Ellie leaned back slightly in her saddle, nudging Dinaâs boot with her own.
âYouâre taking point today,â Ellie said.
Dina squinted at her. âWhy?â
âBecause last time you made me ride into a spider web the size of a dinner plate.â
âThat was not my fault.â
âYou saw it and didnât say anything.â
âI thought you liked nature.â
Ellie scoffed. âI like nature when itâs not trying to crawl into my mouth.â
Dina laughed, shaking her head as she nudged Japan forward. âYouâre so dramatic.â
The morning passed easily after that.
They checked the north trail markers, rode the ridge line where the old watch tower used to stand, and cleared a small stretch of road where winter winds had dropped a dead pine tree across the path.
Their banter bounced back and forth the whole timeâEllie giving Dina grief for almost smacking her with a tree branch, Dina pointing out that Ellie had walked straight past a perfectly obvious set of deer tracks.
By midday they stopped near the river, letting the horses drink and graze while they shared a canteen and a horribly smashed sandwich Ellie had shoved into her pack that morning.
âGourmet,â Dina said around a bite.
âYouâre eating it, aren't you?"
âOnly because starvation seemed worse.â
But as the afternoon stretched on, something shifted.
At first Dina didnât really notice it.
Ellie still answered when she spoke. Still pointed out tracks when they crossed the trail. Still rode alongside her like always.
But the jokes came less frequently.
Then the sarcasm faded too.
By the time the sun started dipping behind the trees and they headed back toward Jackson again, Ellie had gone mostly quiet.
Dina glanced over at her.
Ellie sat a little slouched in the saddle, one hand resting loosely on the reins. Her eyes were fixed ahead on the road.
âYou ok over there?â Dina asked.
Ellie blinked like sheâd been somewhere else entirely.
âYeah,â she said quickly. âJust tired.â
Dina hummed, accepting that for the moment.
They rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the familiar walls of Jackson rising into view as dusk settled over the valley.
Once inside the gates they headed straight for the stables.
Ellie dismounted first, leading Shimmer inside. The routine was automaticâunsaddle, brush down, fresh water, quick check of the hooves, snacks.
âYou wanna watch a movie later?â she asked casually, tightening the strap on her saddle as she set it on the stall rail. âJesse found an old horror flick in the library stash. Said itâs supposed to be good.â
âNah,â she said after a second. âIâm beat, think Iâm just gonna go to bed early.â
Ellie was a habitual night owl. The kind of person who would stay up until two in the morning messing with a guitar or reading some half-burned comic sheâd found.
âAlright,â Dina said, though the word came out slower than she meant it to.
Ellie finished feeding her horse an extra carrot and gave her a final pat on the neck.
âSee you tomorrow, Shim. Be good,â she added.
They turned in their gear together, setting the rifles and ammo back in the armory rack. When they stepped outside again, the town lights were flickering on one by one.
At the fork in the path where they usually split off, Ellie shoved her hands in her jacket pockets.
âGood night,â she said lowly.
Ellie headed toward her garage, shoulders slightly hunched against the cold.
Dina watched her for a second.
Something kept tugging at herâsomething she couldnât quite put her finger on.
But after a moment she shook it off and turned in the other direction, heading toward Jesseâs place.
Ellie had said she was tired.
Dina figured that was all it was.
The next morning, Dina is sitting on a bail of hay in the stables halfway through retying her boots when Maria finds her.
âChange of plans. Ellieâs come down with something so youâre riding with Ty today.â
The words didnât sit right.
Ellieâs patrol record was solidâ even if most of that reliability had been born more out of stubbornness than maturity. Ellie had powered through sore throats before. Bruised ribs. Split knuckles wrapped in gauze beneath her gloves. Dina had seen her ride out with a shoulder so stiff she could barely lift her rifle without wincingâand sheâd still refused to miss a shift.
This was the same Ellie whoâd stitched herself up at the kitchen table without blinking. Just gritted teeth with a sarcastic, âHold the flashlight steady.â
Dina tried not to let her face show her concern, just nodded and adjusted her backpack.
The patrol with Ty was uneventfulâtoo uneventful. Dina found herself listening for a familiar sarcastic comment that never came, glancing to her left expecting a mop of auburn hair and sharp green eyes. Ty filled the silence with small talk, but it felt more like static.
By the time she made it back inside Jacksonâs walls, dusk was settling heavy over the mountains.
She stopped by the mess hall to snag some bread then swung past the infirmary to grab some old-ass Tylenol âjust in case.â Then finally headed home to shower off the cold and grime of the day.
Once clean and warm, Dina pulled on soft pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, tied her wet hair back in a loose bun, and made her way a few streets over to Ellieâs.
The first thing she saw after stepping through Joelâs gate made her snort.
A hand-drawn sign was taped crookedly to the side door of the garage:
Sketched below it, a very dramatic skull and crossbonesâuneven, slightly lopsided, and unmistakably Ellieâs handiwork.
Dina shook her head, smiling despite the knot in her stomach. âIdiot.â
She knocked again, louder this time. âEl?â
She tried the handle and let out a sigh of relief when it turned, stepping inside.
The garage was dim, washed in the last thin streaks of evening light filtering through the curtained window. The air was cold enough to bite. The wood burner sat empty.
On the couch, a still shape.
Dinaâs chest tightened.
She set her backpack down gently and slipped out of her boots and coat, movements careful in the hushed silence. Crossing to the wood burner, she stacked a few logs and struck a match. The flame caught slowly, then grew, casting a warm orange glow that pushed back the shadows.
Only then did she step closer to the couch.
Ellie was flat on her back, hood pulled up over her head, gray sweatpants bunched at her ankles. Her hands were tucked awkwardly against her stomach, fingers pale. Even in the flicker of firelight, Dina could see itâher lips slightly chapped, face flushed but somehow drained at the same time.
Not dramatic, not exaggerated. Just small, involuntary tremors that shook through her frame.
Dinaâs heart dropped straight to the floor.
Ellie had always seemed carved from something unbreakable. Even when she was hurting, she masked it with stubborn pride and crooked humor. Seeing her like thisâunguarded, vulnerable in sleepâfelt wrong. Like the world had tilted.
She crossed to the bedroom, grabbed the thick comforter from the bed, and returned. Carefully, gently, she spread it over Ellie, tucking it around her shoulders. The shivering eased a fraction under the added layer.
Dina brushed her fingers lightly against Ellieâs forehead.
âYouâre such a terrible liar,â she murmured softly, before adding a mocking â âIâm just tired.â â
Dina slid the worn beanbag chair from its usual corner by the TV to the other side of the coffee table, close enough to reach out if she needed to. She sank into it, elbows on her knees, watching the rise and fall of Ellieâs chest in the firelight.
The garage filled slowly with warmth. The only sounds were the soft crackle of wood and the faint hitch of Ellieâs breathing.
Dina leaned back, eyes never leaving her.
For once, Ellie wasnât braced for a fight. Wasnât sharpening a knife or checking ammo or pretending she didnât need anyone.
She looked young. Too young.
Dina swallowed hard, reaching forward to gently pull the comforter higher under Ellieâs chin.
Then leaned back, keeping vigil as the fire burned brighter and the night settled in around them.
The fire had burned low by the time Ellie started to stir.
At first it was subtleâa shift of her head against the couch cushion. A faint murmur, words too tangled to make sense of. Her brow knit together beneath the hood, breath hitching unevenly.
Dina was upright instantly.
Sheâd dozed, but only lightlyâevery crackle of the fire and change of Ellieâs position keeping her hovering just above sleep. Now she was on her knees beside the couch, heart thudding.
âEllieâŠâ she whispered.
Ellie mumbled again, something fractured and soft, like she was arguing with someone in a dream. Her body trembled harder under the comforter.
Dina pressed her palm gently to Ellieâs cheek and her breath caught. She was burning up.
âOkay,â Dina murmured, trying to keep her voice steady. âEnough of this shit.â
She brushed her thumb along Ellieâs cheekbone, slow and soothing. The skin flushed and hot beneath her touch. âEl.â
Her head rolled slightly to the side, lips parting as a shaky exhale left her. The tremors worsened, a strange contradictionâfever heat and cold shivers battling it out.
Dina swallowed and slid one hand to Ellieâs shoulder, giving her a gentle shake.
âEllie. Câmon, wake up.â
The fear crept in thenâsharp and unwelcome. Ellie had slept through storms, through hangovers, through Jesse blasting music. But this felt different. Heavy.
Dina shook her again, firmer this time.
A strained sound left Ellieâs throat. Her face twisted faintly, like surfacing through something thick. Her lashes fluttered but didnât open.
âHey.â Dina leaned closer, voice firm, but gentle underneath. "Let me see those beautiful green eyes.â
It was out before Dina could stop herself, but she didn't care.
She won't remember that anyways.
Another shakeâstronger.
It took effort. More than it should have, but finally, Ellieâs eyes cracked open.
They were unfocused at first, glassy and disoriented. She squinted up at the dim ceiling like she didnât recognize it.
ââŠD?â Her voice was rough, barely there.
Relief hit Dina so fast it almost made her dizzy.
âYeah, itâs me," she brushed the damp hair from Ellieâs forehead.
Ellie blinked slowly, trying to piece together where she was. Her breathing came shallow and she winced faintly as if even that hurt.
âYouâreâŠnot supposed to be in here,â she mumbled weakly, brow furrowing. âYou're going to get sick... I'm quarantined.â
Despite everything, a small huff of laughter escaped Dina. âOh yeah? Is that your official policy?â
Ellie tried to shrug but barely managed it. âHighly contagious. Very dramatic.â
Her teeth chattered mid-sentence.
Dinaâs expression softened immediately. She slid one hand along the side of Ellieâs neck.
âYouâre burning up,â Dina said quietly. âHow long have you felt like this?â
Ellie closed her eyes again like answering required too much energy. âMmm fine, just tired.â
âYou're so full of shit your eyes are turning brown.â
Ellie didnât argue this time. Her body sagged into the couch, eyes half-lidded, struggling to stay open. Dina kept her hand steady at the side of her neck, grounding her.
âNope, I need you to stay awake a little longer.â
âIâm freezing,â Ellie muttered, teeth chattering together.
âBecause you have a fever,â Dina shot back softly. âYour bodyâs confused. We need to cool you down.â
Ellie frowned at her like that made absolutely no sense. âThatâsâŠrude.â
âNo, itâs science.â
Dina peeled the comforter back despite the weak protest that followed. The second the cool air hit, Ellie sucked in a sharp breath and tried to curl in on herself.
âI know,â Dina murmured. âI know. Just trust me.â
She slid an arm behind Ellieâs back and helped her sit up. It took more effort than it should have; Ellie sagged heavily against her, all dead weight and heat. Dina steadied her, feeling the heat radiating through the hoodie.
Ellie made a low sound of complaint but didnât resist.
Dina reached for the glass of water sheâd poured earlier, shaking two Tylenol into Ellieâs palm.
âTake âem,â she said firmly, leaving no room for debate.
Ellie looked at the tablets like they were a personal insult. Normally sheâd argue. Normally sheâd have something sarcastic to say. But she must've been feeling terrible because tonight she just popped them into her mouth and accepted the glass, swallowing the water in long, obedient gulps, before handing it back without a word.
Dina set it aside and dropped to her knees in front of her.
Ellie blinked down at her slowly. âWhatâre you doing?â
Dina reached for the hem of the hoodie. âLowering your temperature so you donât fry that pea brain between your ears.â
Ellie narrowed her eyes faintly. âItâs a perfectly functional brain, thank you.â
Before Ellie could protest further, Dina tugged the hoodie up and over her head. It took a second to maneuver it past Ellieâs arms, but eventually it came free. The fabric on the back damp with sweat.
The cool air hit Ellieâs overheated skin and immediately goosebumps rose along her arms.
âIâm freezing,â Ellie insisted, though her voice wavered.
âThatâs the fever talking,â Dina replied gently, reaching for the hem of her damp t-shirt. "Arms up."
"I can't sit here in just a bra, I'll die. "
"Relax, you just need to swap it for a dry one," Dina explained, lifting the fresh t-shirt in question as proof. Ellie nodded and clumsily yanked her shirt up and pulled on the new one. "See."
Dina brushed her knuckles lightly down Ellieâs arm before moving to her feet. Carefully, she peeled the socks off one at a time, dropping them beside the couch. Ellieâs toes flexed against the sudden cool.
Then Dina pushed the gray sweatpants legs up to her knees, exposing more flushed skin.
Ellie watched her through heavy lids, something softer creeping into her expression beneath the fever haze.
âYou're bossy,â she murmured.
Dina glanced up at her, brow raised. âYou love it.â
A faint ghost of a smile tugged at Ellieâs mouth before she shivered again.
Dina rose and pressed her palm lightly to Ellieâs shoulder. âI'll be right back, donât you dare pass out on me yet.â
Ellieâs eyes were already drifting. ââŠWasnât planning on it.â
Dina lingered for half a second longer, thumb brushing over Ellieâs flushed cheek.
She disappeared into the small kitchenette area and came back a minute later with a bowl of cold water and a clean cloth.
Ellie had slumped back against the couch cushions, eyes half-closed.
âDonât fall asleep,â Dina warned gently.
âMmm not,â Ellie mumbled, which sounded suspiciously like she absolutely was.
Dina wrung the cloth out and draped it carefully across Ellieâs forehead. The reaction was immediateâEllie inhaled sharply at the chill.
âCold,â she breathed.
âItâs supposed to be.â
Kneeling beside the couch, she began to dab gently at Ellieâs flushed cheeks, her jaw, the curve of her neck where heat pooled beneath the skin.
She rinsed the cloth again, the water now warmer from Ellieâs skin, and laid it carefully across her forehead. She adjusted it so it rested just right, then brushed her fingers lightly through Ellieâs damp hair, pushing it off her temples.
Dinaâs chest tightened again at how small she looked sprawled across the couch with goosebumps prickling her overheated skin, she looked fragile in a way Dina wasnât used to seeing.
âIâll make you something,â she said softly.
Ellie cracked one eye open. âIf itâs vegetables, Iâm staging a protest.â
âItâs not, you asshat.â
Dina turned back to the stove and set a small pot on, moving with quiet familiarity. She added herbs from a little pouch in her backpackâthings sheâd grown up with. The scent began to rise into the air; mint, a hint of ginger, something floral and warm.
When she brought the steaming mug over, she sat on the edge of the coffee table.
âMy mom used to make this whenever we got sick,â Dina said, wrapping Ellieâs hands around the mug to warm them properly. âShe swore it was magical.â
Ellieâs brows lifted faintly. âMagical, huh?â
âMmhmm. Claimed it chased fevers out and scared colds away,â Dina smiled softly at the memory. âI believed her too because every time she made it, I felt better afterward.â
Ellie studied her face instead of the cup for a second, something tender flickering there.
âMaybe it was magic,â Ellie murmured.
âMaybe it was,â Dina replied quietly.
She lifted the mug slightly so Ellie didnât have to. Ellie took a careful sip, then another. The steam curled around her face and some of the tension in her shoulders eased.
They sat like that for a whileâEllie drinking slowly, Dina steadying the cup when her hands trembled.
When it was empty, Dina set it aside.
Ellieâs eyes were drooping heavily again.
âDina?â she murmured.
âCan I lay back down for a bit?â
The question was so uncharacteristically soft it almost broke Dinaâs heart.
âYeah,â she answered immediately. âRest.â
She helped Ellie shift carefully, easing her down onto her back once again. Dina adjusted the pillow under her head and replaced the cool cloth with a freshly wrung one.
Ellie sighed as she settled, the sound small but content.
Dina pulled the comforter back over her, lighter this time, making sure her legs were still uncovered enough to keep cooling her down.
She brushed her fingers once more over Ellieâs cheek.
âSleep,â Dina whispered. âIâve got you.â
Ellieâs hand drifted weakly from beneath the blanket, catching Dinaâs wrist for just a second before falling back.
Dina stayed right there beside her as Ellie slipped under again, the fire crackling softly, the faint scent of herbs lingering in the warm air.
When Ellie surfaced again, it was easier.
No shivering. No suffocating heat pressing in from every direction. Just the slow, quiet drift upward from deep sleep.
She blinked at the ceiling for a second.
The pounding behind her eyes was gone. The ache in her bones had dulled to something manageable. Her skin felt normalâno longer slick with sweat, no longer burning and freezing at the same time. She took a cautious breath.
Her chest still felt a little tight, like sheâd run too far in cold air, but it was better.
âHuhâŠâ she murmured softly to herself.
The fire in the wood burner had burned down to glowing embers, casting a low amber light across the garage. The air felt warm but not stifling.
Ellie turned her head slowly.
Curled awkwardly in the worn beanbag chair, chin tipped toward her chest. One arm was tucked beneath her cheek at an uncomfortable angle. The spare quilt had clearly been pulled over her at some point but had slid half off, pooling around her waist.
Her hair had fallen loose from its tie, strands brushing her face. Even in sleep, her brows were faintly drawn together like she hadnât fully relaxed.
Ellie stared at her for a long moment.
The memory trickled back in piecesâthe cool cloth. Dinaâs hands steadying her. The tea. The quiet story about her momâs âmagicalâ remedy. The way sheâd said Iâve got you like it wasnât a question.
A warmth spread through her chest. Slow. Steady. Familiar.
Appreciation, yes, but there was something else threaded through it. Something heavier. Softer.
Something she wasnât brave enough to name.
She shifted carefully, the movement causing the couch to creak softly.
And Dina stirred instantly.
Even half-asleep, her head lifted, eyes blinking open as if sheâd been waiting for that exact sound.
âEllie?â Her voice was thick with sleep and concern in equal measure. She pushed herself upright, quilt slipping fully to the floor. âYou okay?â
âYeah,â she said quietly. âI thinkâŠI think the fever broke.â
Dina crossed the space between them in seconds to press her palm to Ellieâs forehead, then to her cheek.
âYouâre cooler,â she breathed, shoulders sagging in visible relief.
Ellie huffed faintly. "I always was.â
But Dina was smilingâsmall, tired, genuine.
Ellie reached out before she could overthink it, catching Dinaâs wrist lightly.
For a second neither of them said anything.
Ellieâs thumb brushed absentmindedly against Dinaâs skin, grounding herself in the reality of her standing there. She looked at the faint crease on Dinaâs cheek from where sheâd slept awkwardly. The way she was still hovering like sheâd spring into action at the slightest sign of trouble.
âYou didnât have to come over,â Ellie said quietly.
Dinaâs expression softened, but her answer came easy. âYes, I did.â
That warmth in Ellieâs chest flared againâstronger this time. Almost overwhelmingly so.
She looked away first, because holding Dinaâs eyes felt dangerous in a way fever never had.
ââŠthank you,â she muttered.
It wasnât nearly enough for what it meant to her.
But Dina seemed to understand anyway.
She squeezed Ellieâs hand gently before letting go. âYou hungry?â
Ellie considered it. ââŠmaybe.â
âGood," Dina nodded with a smirk, rising to her feet and heading for the small kitchenette. âOne large plate of veggies coming up!â
âI will literally riot, Dina!â
âRelax,â Dina chuckled already rummaging through the small refrigerator when Ellie pushed herself up a little higher against the cushions.
"You donât have to go through the trouble,â Ellie called, her voice still rough but steadier now. âIâm fine. I can just...eat tomorrow.â
Dina glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow arching.
âItâs no trouble,â she said, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Ellie huffed softly. âYou say that now..."
"Trust me, after nursing Jesse through the flu last winter, this is nothing.â
âUgh, that sounds exhausting.â
âIt was,â Dina replied easily, turning back to the counter. "He's such a baby."
Ellie watched her move around the tiny spaceâlighting the stove again, pouring what looked like broth into a small pot and buttering a couple slices of bread like sheâd done it a hundred times. There was something steady about her movements. Unhurried. Certain.
Like this was exactly where she was meant to be.
Ellie let her head tip back against the couch, listening to the quiet clink of a frying pan and the soft hiss coming from the pot.
âYou couldâve just left it at the tea,â Ellie said after a moment. âThat was alreadyâŠabove and beyond.â
Dina paused briefly, then resumed stirring.
âMy mom used to say you feed a fever when it breaks,â she replied. âGives your body something to work with.â
Ellie smiled faintly. âYour mom had a saying for everything, huh?â
There was fondness there. And a flicker of something more complicated that Dina smoothed over quickly.
After a few minutes passed, Dina shuffled back into the living room with a plate stacked on top of a bowl in one hand and a fresh glass of water in the other, carefully setting them on the coffee table before helping Ellie sit up again. Her hand hovered at Ellieâs back a second longer than necessary, just to make sure she was steady.
"Just take it slow,â Dina instructed. âIf you spill anything on my couch, Iâm going to cry.â
Ellie shot her a look. âYour couch?â
"Pretty sure I spend more time on it than you do."
"Fair," Ellie snorted weakly, then winced at the lingering ache in her chest.
Dina noticed immediately. âIs it tight?â
âA little, but better than this morning.â
Dinaâs expression softened again and adjusted the pillow behind Ellie, handing her the spoon.
âWeâll keep an eye on it,â she said quietly, stepping back towards the kitchen. âI think youâre past the worst of it though.â
Ellie's gaze shifted from Dina's retreating form to the food in front of her. A grilled cheese cut neatly in half, the edges golden and crisp sat beside a bowl of soup, steam still curling gently from the surface, the aroma making her mouth water.
Ellie blinked at it for a second. "Wow.â
Carefully, she leaned forward and picked up the sandwich first. The bread warm in her hands and took a tentative bite.
The crunch was perfect, the cheese deliciously melted.
âDamn,â she muttered under her breath.
She hadnât realized how hungry she was until the food hit her stomach. The soup followedâslow spoonfuls, the warmth spreading through her and settling in a way that made her shoulders relax.
Across the room, Dina was rinsing dishes, pretending not to watch her every move.
She glanced up over the rim of the bowl, catching Dinaâs reflection faintly in the small window above the sink. Dinaâs posture was casual, but held the same quiet attentiveness sheâd had all evening.
âYou know,â Ellie said after a moment, voice still a little rough, âif the whole patrol thing doesn't work out, you could open a diner. Give Seth a run for his money.â
Dina looked over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. âOh yeah?â
âYeah, the soupâs delicious. Grilled cheese is elite.â
âHigh praise coming from someone who once ate a can of beans with a screwdriver.â
Ellie pointed her spoon at her. âThat was survival.â
Ellie chuckled, then leaned back against the couch again, bowl balanced in her hands.
For a few quiet minutes, the only sounds were the soft clink of the spoon and the low crackle from the wood burner.
Ellie stared down at the broth, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Thank you,â she said quietly. "For everything."
Dina didnât make a big deal out of it. She just dried her hands on a towel and leaned against the counter. For a fleeting second, something crossed her faceâsoft and unguarded. Dinaâs eyes lingered on her in a way that feltâŠdifferent. Warmer than simple concern.
But then it was gone as quickly as it appeared, tucked away behind that familiar easy composure.
âSomeone had to keep you from dying dramatically alone on your couch,â she said lightly as she settled back into the worn beanbag chair.
Ellie shook her head, amused, but the warmth in her chest had nothing to do with the food.
Sometimes Ellie thought she saw something spark between themâlittle looks, small touches, moments that lingered longer than they should.
And every time she started to believe it might mean something, she reminded herself Dina was with Jesse.
She took another bite of grilled cheese and glanced over at her again.
Dina looked tired. Not the normal end-of-patrol tired either. The kind that came from sitting up for hours, fretting over someone you cared about.
"I don't remember much from earlierâŠI was pretty out of it,â she said quietly, "have you been here since you got home from patrol?"
Dina shrugged one shoulder. âMore or less.â
Ellie huffed softly. âYou couldâve gone home and rested.â
âYeah,â Dina said lightly, âI couldâve.â
Ellie rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly unsure what to do with the feeling building inside herself. Gratitude came easy enoughâshe could say thank you again and mean it.
But it was bigger than that.
Dina had sat there for hours while Ellie sweated through a fever. Made magical tea. Fed her like she actually mattered.
Ellie cleared her throat.
âI know I've already said it, butâŠI really mean it,â she said, glancing up at her. âThank you, D.â
Dina gave a small smile, the kind that lifted one corner of her mouth. âYouâre welcome.â
Ellie leaned back against the couch cushions again, studying her for a moment.
âYouâre good at this,â she said.
âTaking care of people.â
Dina looked down briefly, like the comment caught her off guard.
âMy mom was like that,â she said after a second. âGuess some of it stuck.â
Ellie watched her then shook her head slightly. âI think itâs just you.â
Ellie shrugged like it wasnât a big deal, but her voice was honest in that way it only got when she was too tired to hide behind sarcasm.
âYeah, maybe your mom taught you stuff,â she said, "but thatâs not why you stayed all night.â
Dinaâs expression softened, curious now.
Ellie gestured vaguely toward the kitchen, the couch, the whole evening. âYou didnât have to do any of that.â
âIâve been sick before,â Ellie cut in. âJoel usually just tosses a blanket at me and tells me to sleep it off.â
Dina frowned faintly at that.
Ellie leaned back against the cushions, arms folding loosely across her middle.
âYou made tea,â she continued. âYou sat up making sure I didnât cook my brain. You made grilled cheese.â She paused, adding dryly, âWhich, by the way, wasâ" she trailed making a chef's kiss gesture.
A small smile tugged at Dinaâs mouth.
Ellie met her eyes again, more serious now.
"Thatâs not just something that âstuck,ââ she said quietly. âThatâs you.â
For a second Dina didnât answer.
Something warm and complicated flickered across her face againâso quick Ellie almost missed it.
"Careful,â Dina said finally, her voice softer than before. âYou keep saying things like that and I might start thinking you like me.â
Ellie flushed slightly, praying her pale skin hadn't betrayed her and forced a faint chuckle, though the sound lacked its usual bite. âDonât push your luck.â
Dina held Ellieâs gaze for a moment longer than usual. Long enough that the air between them shifted into something quieter. Heavier.
Then Dina reached down, scooping the quilt back up from where it had slid to the floor earlier. She pulled it around her shoulders as she settled back into the beanbag chair.
âWe should probably get some sleep,â she said, her tone lighter now, like she was deliberately nudging the moment aside.
The spell between them broke.
âYeah,â Ellie murmured easing herself back down on the couch, pulling the comforter up loosely over her middle. The couch creaked softly as she shifted until she was comfortable again.
Across the coffee table, Dina tucked the quilt tighter around herself, leaning her head back against the wall.
The fire had burned down to a low glow now, casting long shadows across the garage.
Ellie stared up at the ceiling. She knew what she was feeling. That was the worst part.
For a long time sheâd tried to pretend it was nothingâjust admiration, just friendship, just the easy closeness theyâd always had. But somewhere along the way it had changed into something deeper, something heavier that settled and refused to move.
And it wasnât going away.
If anything, it seemed to grow a little stronger each day.
Ellie let out a quiet breath, rubbing a hand over her face before letting it fall back onto the couch in frustration and closing her eyes.
She didnât see the way Dinaâs dark eyes were still open in the dim light.
Didnât see the way Dina stared quietly at the dying embers in the wood burner, her jaw tight with thoughts she couldnât say out loud.
Because on the other side of the coffee table, Dina was fighting the exact same war with her feelings.
