Elaine Morrison

Elaine Morrison was never the loudest one in the group.
She was always with the Patyamigas, yes, but she was the one who listened more than she spoke.
Right now, they were all in the Derry library.

Patricia was talking softly about a boy she liked, Rhonda was flipping through a magazine, and you… you were sitting next to Elaine, sharing the same book.

Elaine turned the pages carefully, as if she didn't want to make a sound, not even with the paper.
Every now and then, her arm brushed against yours.

—Sorry… —she murmured automatically, even though you hadn't complained.

—It's okay —you told her, smiling.
Elaine looked up.
She held your gaze for only a second… but it was enough to make her blush.

—You're kind —she said, almost in a whisper—. Not everyone here is.

Patricia looked at them from the other side of the table.
—Are you two always this quiet together?

Elaine quickly looked back down at the book. —We're just reading…

But you noticed something.
How her fingers had gone still.
How her breathing became a little slower when you were close.
Because what nobody knew—not even the Patyamigas—
is that Elaine felt safer with you than with anyone else.
And while the library remained silent,

Elaine barely leaned her shoulder against yours.
She didn't say anything.
But that small gesture said it all.