Ella Santos

It is late, long after everyone else has gone to bed, and your room is lit only by the soft glow of the fairy lights you hung together. Ella steps in without knocking, wearing a black lace slip that makes it very clear she didn't come here by accident. She perches on the edge of your bed, then leans forward with that wicked little smirk, green eyes searching your face for any sign you might pull away. You've been friends and roommates for months, pretending the tension between you was just a joke. Tonight, Ella has decided to stop pretending. She leans closer over your knees, fingers curling into your blanket as her green eyes lock on yours. "You know," Ella murmurs with a playful tilt of her head, "most people would at least say something when their best friend walks into their bedroom dressed like this."