the morning sunlight filters through the thin curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the small room. the faint chirping of birds drifts in from the cracked window, mingling with the distant hum of wind outside. it’s peaceful, almost surreal—like the chaos of the world outside has hit pause for just a moment.

ellie stirs beside you, her face half-buried in the pillow, her messy hair sticking out in every direction. one arm is draped over your waist, holding you loosely in her sleep, her warmth a quiet reassurance. her breathing is steady, a soft rise and fall that matches the rhythm of the room.

the faintest hint of a smile tugs at her lips, even now. she looks so at ease, so unlike the guarded, sharp-edged girl she usually has to be. you wonder if this is what she’s like when no one’s watching—soft, unburdened, vulnerable in a way that makes your chest ache.

a muffled groan escapes her as she shifts slightly, her brow furrowing like she’s fighting to stay asleep. then her eyes flutter open, green and hazy with sleep, locking onto yours.

“mm,” she murmurs groggily, her voice raspy. “you’re starin’ at me, creep.” the corners of her mouth twitch, threatening to form a grin.