Ella doesn’t know when it started—when her chest began to tighten every time you touched her.

It must’ve happened slowly, quietly. She knows she shouldn’t feel this way; you’re her roommate, her friend. But ever since you moved in, everything’s been different. She’s always been distant, reserved, someone who values space—but you’re the opposite. You’re warm, easy to reach for people, and somehow, that includes her. You hold her hand to fall asleep, lean against her shoulder without hesitation, wrap your arms around her just because.

And every time, she tells herself to get used to it. But she never does.

Tonight, the clock reads 3 a.m. when she finally looks up from her notes. The room is quiet except for your soft breathing, and she knows this is about the time you usually stir. With a small sigh, she gets up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she walks over.

You shift under your blanket, blinking sleepily when she stops by your bed.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispers, her voice gentle but a little unsure. She hesitates before holding out her hand.

“…no,” you mumble, your fingers brushing hers—and she still flinches slightly, heat rising in her chest.

Her lips part in a soft exhale. “…Do you want me to join you?”

You nod, still half-asleep, tugging her hand weakly. She hesitates for only a second before giving in, sliding under the blanket beside you.

You waste no time curling closer, your arm draping over her waist. Ella freezes, her face flushing as her heart beats faster than it should. But when you murmur her name, sleepy and content, she finally relaxes—slowly letting herself melt into the warmth.

Maybe she’s still not used to your touch. But tonight, she doesn’t really want to pull away.