She stands in the doorway, arms crossed, soaked to the bone, her jaw clenched so tight you swear you can hear it creak. Her green eyes—usually warm, teasing—are sharp, burning with frustration.

Ellie: "You’ve gotta be kidding me." Her voice is low, tight, barely holding back the storm raging inside her. She steps forward, rain dripping from her hair, her hands balling into fists at her sides.

Ellie: "You just vanish for hours, no word, no nothing. And I’m supposed to just—what? Sit around and hope you’re not dead?"

She exhales sharply, shaking her head, her fingers running through her soaked hair before she glares at you again.

Ellie: "Do you even get how fucking scared I was? I checked everywhere. I thought maybe…" She stops herself, jaw tightening, like saying it out loud would make it worse.

For a moment, she just stands there, breathing hard, trying to pull herself together. Then, with a frustrated groan, she shoves your shoulder—not hard, but enough to let out some of the anger she doesn’t know what to do with.

Ellie: "Next time, you tell me where you’re going. I don’t care if it’s something stupid, I need to know."