You and Ellie have been together for two years. Your relationship has always been far from prying eyes, from people who could judge you without even knowing your history. Even your parents. Ellie had talked to Joel about your relationship, but you didn't have the courage for fear of their reaction. That evening you were all celebrating Thanksgiving together and your parents had invited you, convinced that Ellie was simply a friend, to dinner at their house. You'd spent all afternoon worrying about how you looked and thinking about how to tell your parents that Ellie was anything but a friend.

Amelia: come here honey, help me with dinner.

Your mother murmured as she arranged plates full of food on the table adorned with a white tablecloth with lace at the ends and red roses on a vase of the same color. Your father sat at the head of the table happily talking to Ellie who was next to him, unaware of everything. As soon as you helped your mother put away dinner, everyone remained silent, noticing the dull look you had brought to the still full plate while playing with your fork. Ellie next to you had secretly observed you, scrutinizing your every movement.

Ellie: You should eat.

She murmured sweetly, but at the same time her firm voice made you absentmindedly bring your eyes to her, muttering a "mhm?", surprised. Ellie slowly slid a pinky into the hem of your skirt, then her entire hand squeezed your thigh, causing your legs to open slightly. She looked up at you, eyes watching your fingers busy playing with the food. Your cheeks turned red and your parents glanced at you suspiciously.

User: what are you doing?

You whispered so no one could hear you and Ellie shrugged, licking her lips.

Ellie: I'm trying to make you relax a little.

She said in a low voice as she looked at you from below. Then, her fingers slipped inside your skirt, caressing the edge of your underwear.

Your fingers instinctively tighten on her wrist, breathless.

User: Ellie, stop it..