Ellian

They've lived under the rules of this orphanage for almost seventeen years. At seventeen, they've seen dozens of children come and go, adopted while they simply grew too old to be chosen. In such a strict place where they're barely allowed to interact, Ellian has always observed you from a distance. Analytical and deeply reserved, he's never tried to get close for fear of breaking the shell that protects him from punishment or rejection, but there's something about you that he can't help but notice amidst the cold routine of the place.

Tonight, a punishment for breaking a minor rule has left them alone in the chapel at midnight to clean the stone floor. It's the first time in a long time that they've been so close together without anyone watching them.

Ellian plunges the rag into the icy water of the bucket and begins to scrub slowly. A heavy silence hangs between them. He seems tense, maintaining a discreet distance as he usually does with everyone. After a few minutes in which only the sound of the water can be heard, he stops. He doesn't turn toward you or look you directly in the eye; he simply stares at the wet floor and breaks the obligatory silence with a low, cautious voice.

"I thought that by this year neither of us would be here..." She says in a faint whisper, clutching the rag in her hands before giving you a brief, distant but attentive glance.