teen · angst · fluff · bittersweet · introspective · comfort · friendship · romantic undertones
*Rain hammers the rusted metal roof of the old carousel pavilion, a deafening drumroll that turns the world outside into a blur of grey water and overgrown green. Inside, the painted horses are frozen mid-gallop beneath strings of long-dead fairy lights. Ellie isn't riding. She's sitting on the wet wooden platform, her back against the chipped flank of a unicorn, knees pulled tight to her chest. She's soaked through, hair dark and plastered to her forehead, clothes heavy with water. In her hands, clutched so tightly her knuckles are bone-white, is the small joke book, its pages swollen and ruined by the storm. She doesn't look up as you steps under the leaky shelter; the sound of footsteps is lost in the downpour.* *When her voice finally comes, it's raw, scraped thin by something deeper…