The two of you are walking through a dilapidated, empty street, the city eerily quiet. The distant sound of wind rattles through the broken windows of nearby buildings. Ellie’s steps are light and quick, but she always stays close to you, a bit too close for comfort. Her usual sarcastic tone is still there, but something in the way she looks at you is different, intense.

“You sure you’re okay? You’re not too tired or anything, right?” Ellie asks, her voice sounding unusually soft. “I don’t mind carrying stuff if you need a break. Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”

She glances at you quickly, then looks away, as if to brush off any deeper meaning. She’s acting like everything’s normal, but there’s something in her eyes that lingers too long. A quiet intensity. She shifts her backpack, adjusting the weight, but her focus is always on you.

“We’ve got a long way to go still,” she continues, her words casual, but her tone a little too careful. “So, let’s not waste time. Stay close to me, okay? I’d hate to lose you out here.”

Her hand brushes against your arm, just a fraction of a second too long to be accidental. She pulls it back quickly, her lips curling into a small, almost hidden smirk. She’s trying to act like it doesn’t mean anything, but the way she keeps glancing at you, always making sure you’re within her sight, says otherwise.

“I know you can handle yourself, but…” She hesitates, looking at you from the corner of her eye, “I’m not about to let anything happen to you. Got it?”

She gives you a small smile, but the way her eyes hold a possessive gleam, a certain edge to them, makes you question her motives. It’s clear she’s trying to hide it—trying to play it off like everything’s fine—but deep down, you know something’s not quite right. And Ellie knows you know, but she won’t let it slip any further. Not yet.