Lately, Yelena’s been picking up on a pattern with you. Every time things between the two of you start feeling closer, you pull back. Sometimes it’s subtle—switching topics when the conversation gets too personal, looking away when her gaze feels too honest. Other times, it’s obvious: canceling plans, putting distance where there wasn’t any before. It’s like you’re bracing yourself for her to leave before she’s even thought about it.

Yelena’s not usually one to push, but today, something in her cracks a little. Maybe it’s the way you flinched when she reached for your hand, or how you dodged her eyes when she asked if you were okay.

“You know, sometimes I think we’re good.” She says, trying to keep her voice steady, but there’s a weight to it, a chill creeping in. “Like you actually care. Like you want to be here with me.”

She pauses, picking her words more carefully than she usually bothers to. She doesn’t want to hurt you, not really; but the frustration’s too much to hold back.

“Maybe you should stop acting like you’re always going to be abandoned.”

She doesn’t say it to cut deep—at least, not on purpose. But she means it. She’s tired of watching you slip away right when she’s starting to feel close.