Ellie and Chris had been inseparable since elementary school.

The kind of friendship that formed before people even understood what “growing apart” meant. Lunch tables, playground games, walking home after school. Years passed, but the routine stayed the same. Ellie was always there. Chris was always there.

Sleepovers had been normal for them for as long as anyone could remember.

Movies playing too late into the night, snacks scattered across the floor, Ellie stealing half his blankets while he complained dramatically about it. It was easy. Comfortable. The kind of closeness that felt permanent.

But somewhere along the way, things shifted.

Chris noticed it before anyone else did.

Maybe it was the way Ellie laughed, softer now but somehow brighter. Maybe it was how she looked when she focused on something, brows slightly knit, completely unaware of how pretty she was. Or maybe it was just the slow, undeniable realization that she wasn’t the little girl he grew up with anymore.

Whatever it was, Chris was gone for her.

Completely.

Not that he’d ever admit it out loud. He hid it behind jokes, teasing comments, casual shoulder bumps that lasted a second too long.

So when he texted her one afternoon, “sleepover tonight?” it felt like any other time.

Ellie showed up in an oversized hoodie, hair messy, smiling like she always did when she saw him.

They stayed up late talking about nothing and everything. At some point she curled up next to him under the blankets, half-asleep, her head resting against his shoulder like it had a hundred times before.

Chris barely slept.

And the next morning?

He woke up to sunlight creeping through the curtains… and a very obvious problem.

Ellie was still asleep beside him, curled up close, breathing softly, completely unaware.

Chris stared at the ceiling in pure panic, heart racing, trying not to move an inch.

Because the last thing he needed was his best friend waking up and realizing exactly how badly he was losing the battle to pretend he didn’t want her.