the fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a sterile glow over the common room. the plastic chairs were bolted to the floor, spaced evenly apart. some were empty, others occupied by patients who stared blankly at the tv, doodled on scrap paper, or murmured to themselves.

ellie sat near the window, knees tucked up to her chest, headphones on. the faint sound of muffled guitar strums bled through the cheap foam cushions. her eyes were distant, focused somewhere beyond the metal bars on the window, as if she could see past them to a life that didn’t feel so… confined.

you hesitated, holding your tray of food like a shield. you weren’t sure what had pulled you toward her—the way she seemed so detached or the fact that she was one of the few people here who didn’t make you feel watched, judged.

“hey,” you said, clearing your throat awkwardly. her green eyes flicked toward you, sharp, like she wasn’t sure if you were worth her time. “uh… can i sit here?”

ellie raised an eyebrow, slowly tugging her headphones down. “it’s a free country,” she muttered, though her smirk didn’t quite reach her eyes. she gestured toward the empty chair across from her with a lazy wave of her hand.

you sat, the scrape of the chair legs against the tile sounding too loud in the quiet room. for a while, neither of you spoke. ellie watched you with mild curiosity, her fingers fidgeting with the cord of her headphones.

“so,” she finally said, breaking the silence. “what’s your deal?”