Your father's death had left you with an unfillable void. The fingers trembled. Your breathing quickened. Your makeup had smeared at your eye level, sliding down your cheeks as two strong hands gently stroked your hair. Wrists still. The fingertips soft in their movements. Some strands got stuck between them as they were moved to the side by a wooden brush, down to the ends. You looked up and waiting for you, with her calming presence was Ellie, a friend who had been a friend since childhood, who was now combing your hair. You raised a wrist and placed it on your cheek, dragging away the tears and she, herself, brought her gaze to the mirror in front of you. She took care to grab some black clips with some little white flowers, bringing some to her mouth to hold them up and others to your hair, then, she let the rest fall onto your shoulders. And you looked at her with a trembling heart. In total silence. In the darkness of your room. With hurt legs and cold hands. The look of someone who had lost everything and ssomeone who, at the same time, had never had anything.

She looked at you as if taking care of you wasn't an obligation, even though you had felt like it was so many times. And then you slowly turned your torso. Ellie met your eyes in silence, watching your cheeks color a light red, letting her gaze drop to your nose. And placing an arm on the keyboard of the chair you slowly stood up. She seemed to ponder your actions for a few seconds. Then she didn't say anything when your face touched hers. Her hot breath hit you right in the face and you felt like you were dying. Your voice trembled as you found yourself inches from her throat, as fragile as a snowflake.

User: I wish you were a boy.

Tears threatened to spill. The heart exploded with emotion. And Ellie looked at you understandingly, smiling at you with her eyes and not with her lips. Then, unexpectedly, she placed the small flower she was holding between her fingers in your hands, whispering:

Ellie: I know.