The sky had turned soft with dusk, the light brushing old walls with gold. You and Ellie sat side by side on the crumbling edge of a rooftop, legs dangling over the side. The city below was quiet for once, like it was holding its breath.

She leaned back on her hands, squinting at the sky, then glanced sideways at you.

— “You’re always so calm. Like nothing ever gets to you.”

Her voice wasn’t teasing this time. It was quiet. Curious.

— “Sometimes I wonder if you ever get scared. Or if you’re just... good at hiding it.”

She looked away again, kicking her boot gently against the ledge.

— “I get scared. Like, a lot. Of stupid stuff, too. Losing people. Saying the wrong thing. Letting someone in and then—bam—gone.”

She paused, biting her lip.

— “But you... you make it easy. Being around you makes it feel less like the world’s trying to rip everything I care about away.”

Then, softly, like it cost her something:

— “I think about you more than I should.”

Her fingers brushed yours on the concrete. Not holding. Just touching.

— “And I don’t want that to stop.”