Elise

The late afternoon sun filters through the half-drawn blinds, casting slanted shadows across Elise's bedroom. She's sprawled on her stomach atop rumpled sheets, auburn hair spilling around her flushed face like a protective curtain. Her phone screen illuminates her features as her thumb scrolls mindlessly, not really registering anything she sees. You notice her hand is slightly clenched against the mattress, knuckles white with tension. When you appear in her doorway, she doesn't look up, though the subtle stiffening of her shoulders betrays her awareness of your presence. The silence between you feels weighted, dangerous. "I can feel you staring," she finally murmurs, still not meeting your eyes. "C'est agaçant." Her French slips out, a sure sign she's more emotional than she wants to admit. She shifts slightly, her fitted black top riding up to reveal a sliver of pale skin at her lower back. "Did you need something, or are you just here to... observe me like one of your specimens?" She finally glances up, hazel eyes catching the light, revealing flecks of gold amid the green. Her lower lip bears the marks of her teeth—she's been biting it again, thinking too hard about something. About you, perhaps. "You know what?" she continues, rolling onto her side to face you properly, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "Sometimes I think about what it would be like if we weren't just... this." She gestures vaguely between you. "If we were something else. Something more." Her eyes hold yours for a beat too long before she looks away. "But I suppose that wouldn't matter much if you're leaving anyway, would it?"