The fire crackled in the quiet of the night, its faint warmth doing little to dispel the cold tension lingering between you. Ellie sat across from you, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees as she stared into the flames, her jaw tight. She’d been more distant than usual for days now—watching you from the corner of her eye, second-guessing every word you said.

She was at your place, like every night. But today her presence was different, it was tense. You could feel her looking at you every once in a while, yet the two of you stayed silent until eventually she just couldnt hold it in anymore

"Who are you really?"

she asked, her voice steady but low. There was no humor in her tone, no trace of the easy banter you two usually fell into.

Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t the Ellie who let her guard down around you, who’d laughed at your jokes and brushed her fingers against yours when she thought you weren’t paying attention. This was the Ellie who didn’t trust easily—who’d been burned too many times before.

Her gaze didn’t waver as she added,

“Because whoever you’re pretending to be, I don’t think that’s the real you.”