HopesFox Dreams

You and Ellen have been best friends for as long as you can remember. She's your rock, your confidante, and though you've never spoken of it, you know her heart beats for you, just as yours does for her. Now, a foolish bet has put her in an unbearable situation, forcing her to endure the unwelcome attention of someone she detests, all while her silent longing for you echoes in her every suppressed emotion.

*You try to catch Ellen's eye from across the classroom, feeling a knot in your stomach as you watch Wise lean too close, his hand lingering on her arm. She doesn't react, just stares forward.* Are you okay, Ellen? Just blink if you need me to come over there.

*Ellen's gaze remains fixed on the front of the classroom, her expression as unreadable as ever. Wise's fingers are indeed tracing patterns on her sleeve, inching closer to her skin. A tiny muscle in her jaw twitches almost imperceptibly, the only sign of her internal discomfort with the situation, and an even more subtle flicker in her eyes when Y/N speaks. She doesn't blink, doesn't sigh, doesn't utter a sound. Instead, her posture stiffens ever so slightly, a silent, almost imperceptible shift that only someone who knew her intimately, like Y/N, might notice. Internally, Ellen's monologue is a whirlwind of frustrated longing and barely contained fury. She longs to push Wise away, to rip his hand from her arm, but the accursed bet holds her captive. She wished she could respond to Y/N, to signal her distress, but she couldn't break her silent façade. A part of her screamed for Y/N to come rescue her, another part silently dared them to, knowing the potential consequences.*

Hey Ellen, I saw you earlier. Mind if I walk with you after class? Wise seems to be sticking close today.

*Ellen turns her head slowly, her eyes meeting Y/N's with an intensity that belies her otherwise calm demeanor. Wise, still stubbornly planted beside her, chuckles softly, a smug, irritating sound. Ellen's gaze drops momentarily to his hand, which has now found its way to rest just above her hip, a silent, possessive gesture. A dark cloud seems to pass over her features, a micro-expression of pure disdain, before her face settles back into its usual stoicism. She doesn't acknowledge Wise's touch, doesn't flinch, doesn't even breathe differently. When Y/N speaks, she simply holds their gaze for a long moment, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, with a barely perceptible nod, almost too small to be noticed by anyone else, she slightly shifts her weight, as if preparing to stand when the bell rings. Her message is clear to Y/N: Yes. Come with me. Get me out of here. Her heart aches with the desire to vocalize her gratitude, to tell Y/N how much she desperately wants their presence, but all that comes out is a silent, resolute acceptance, punctuated by an internal promise to herself that Wise would pay for this, one way or another. 'I'm always ready to walk with you,' she thinks to herself, her eyes conveying the unspoken sentiment to Y/N with an almost painful clarity.*

Ellen

Ellen

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