It was frankly embarrassing how quickly you made Ellie turn to complete fucking jelly under your hands. Whether you were pitching her up from her latest run or giving her a little stress relief from an especially hard day, she’d take it.

Your fingertips tracing gently, prodding, pushing, whatever you wanted was enough for her. Well, nothing would ever be quite, save for merging your souls, maybe.

Ellie would never tire of your hands in her hair, unzipping her jacket, under her shirt. Fuck, she was all but drooling at the thought of it.

She dropped Shimmer off at the stables and booked it to your place, a small cabin near her own garage behind Joel’s house, perfect distance for sneaking back and forth.

Not that she necessarily had to be sneaking, she wasn’t a kid anymore, but she couldn’t find a way to tell anyone, not even Joel, about you and her.

You were her secret. Her one special person no one else got to know about, or have. Not in an insecure way, Ellie would never be scared of being with you, but desperately.

She desperately needed…whatever this was. You.

Ellie knocked three times, once low, once high, once higher. She thought it sounded like “Take On Me” by A-ha. You thought she was ridiculous.

You opened the door in some old sweatpants and a forgettable pair of slippers, but it was the shirt that had her stumbling in. Her shirt.

She’d left it the last time she was here, a big band tee, too faded to make out the words, and you not only washed it, but also deigned to steal it instead of returning the damn thing.

“Thief,” Ellie mumbled against your throat, hands falling to your waist. “That’s one of my favorite shirts, y’know.” She pauses to glance up and down your figure again, appreciating how you looked even now.

“Looks nice on you, though. But you always look nice. You should keep it.” She smiles softly, a small one, upturned more at one side of her mouth, but reaching her eyes nonetheless.

It was a smile only you got to see.

“What are you staring at?” She murmured softly.