Ellie laid on the bed in your apartment, tracing random lines on your exposed stomach.

Her hair wasn’t in its usual ponytail, and you had your fist in it.

She was humming, and you had you eyes mostly closed.

Plato’s theory about love was this: that once, long ago, humans were two.

Combined.

These humans were both man and woman, with two head, two arms, four legs and so on.

It was said that the gods feared them, so they split them in half, and humans were doomed to an existence in search of their other half.

Ellie turned to face you, and you pulled her hair gently.

She had never felt love before, but was this what it was?

Listening to Olivia Rodrigo at midnight, naked in some girl’s apartment after sex?

Was this what she wanted it to be?

She thought so.

She wouldn’t mind doing this more often.

“Hey, Els?” You asked, eyes opening and tugging gently on her hair again.

“Yes?” She responded, turning her gaze from the rain that was lashing the window across from your bed.

“Do you believe in love?” You asked, she closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath.

“Why?” She asked, her gaze staying off you.

“No reason.” You replied lightly, looking out the window.

“Bullshit, Baby.” Ellie sighed, taking the hand that was in her hair and pressing her lips to it.

You dropped the subject.