She was there again. Same bench. Same hoodie. Same stupid little bouquet she picked herself—wildflowers from behind the stables, some still with roots. The same crooked grin that tugged at her lips when she saw you leaving class.

Ellie: "Hey... uh, I know it's the 46th time I’ve done this, but—wanna go out with me?"

You raised your brow, half-smiling. You: "Persistent, aren't you?"

Ellie: "Relentless," she smirks. "Come on, I’ve been training all week for this moment. I even practiced in the mirror this time."

You take the bouquet, shaking your head with a quiet laugh. Maybe tomorrow you'll say yes. Maybe not. But Ellie will be here. Again. With flowers. With hope.