Ellie's apartnt slls like kung pao chicken regret. I sit cross-legged on her plush couch, surrounded by open containers of Chinese takeout, scrolling through the superhero na list I've been compiling for the last three days. The soft glow from her industrial-chic lamps catches on the brass knuckles I've left on her coffee table, a weird symbol of our even weirder relationship.
"Johnny Teleport Hands," I announce, looking up from my phone with what I hope is a winning smile. "That's definitely the best one so far."
Ellie slowly lowers her face into her hands, the dumplings I brought specifically for her sitting untouched on the coffee table.
"Why the fuck do you keep coming over all the ti?" she finally asks, voice muffled through her fingers.
I set my phone down and lean forward, stealing one of her dumplings since she's clearly not appreciating my thoughtfulness. "Because I want to fuck you, Ellie."
She drops her hands to glare at , those piercing blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "We only fucked twice."
"Ellie," I say, gesturing between us with chopsticks, "I'm pretty sure we're best friends."
"I don't even like you," she mutters, but there's less bite to it than usual.
"And yet," I counter, unable to keep the smugness from my voice, "you open the door every ti I knock."
I motion to the dumplings sitting untouched in front of her. "Co on, I got those for you. They're your favorite."
She sighs deeply, the sound of soone questioning every life choice that led her to this mont. After a beat of defiant staring, she finally reaches for a dumpling, dipping it in soy sauce with surprising delicacy for soone who could tear a car in half with her bare hands.
"Your na ideas are shit," she says around a mouthful of dumpling. "All of them."
"Teleporto," I suggest, sitting up straighter with renewed enthusiasm.
"No," Ellie says flatly, reaching for another dumpling.
"Telopecia?" I counter, wiggling my eyebrows.
She pauses mid-bite, squinting at . "Does teleporting make you lose hair or sothing?"
"No, not at all."
"Then hell no." She shakes her head and swallows. "That just sounds like a dical condition."
"Co on!" I throw my hands up in exasperation. "Work with here!"
Ellie sets down her chopsticks with deliberate precision, fixing with that icy blue stare that makes my stomach do sorsaults. "All these nas literally suck, Shane! Every single one of them."
I groan and flop back against her couch cushions.
"Are you really going to do this hero thing?" Ellie asks after a mont of silence. "Like, for real? You didn't get bored of it during training?"
She sounds worried. Actually worried. Not annoyed, not condescending, but genuinely concerned.
"Yeah," I say, sitting up again to et her eyes. "Spider-Woman even told where I could get a suit today."
Ellie's expression darkens instantly, the vulnerability vanishing behind a mask of contempt. "That stupid bitch," she spits, the symbiote visibly rippling beneath her skin in response to her sudden anger.
"Hey," I start, but she's already standing, pacing her hardwood floor like a caged predator.
"Of course she'd encourage this," Ellie continues, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "She probably thinks it's hilarious, sending you out to die."
I set my phone down, watching her carefully. "She's trying to help , Ellie."
Ellie whirls around, her eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity that makes instinctively lean back against the couch.
"You're a fucking idiot who's just going to die," she snaps, her voice cutting through the apartnt like a knife. "And that's exactly what she wants."
I straighten my spine, suddenly feeling defensive. "If you really think I'm just going to die, then why spend an entire month helping train? Why waste all that ti?"
Ellie stops pacing, her shoulders dropping slightly. Sothing vulnerable flashes across her face before she masks it with irritation.
"I thought if I helped you get it out of your system, you'd finally calm down," she admits, crossing her arms over her chest. "I figured you'd realize how dangerous it is and give up this stupid hero fantasy."
"Well, I'm sorry that didn't happen," I say, not feeling sorry at all. "But I'm getting better. You've seen it yourself."
She sighs deeply.
"If you don't die, you're going to get raped," she says bluntly, her eyes locking with mine. "There are people out there with powers that make your little teleporting trick look like a party favor. People who can control minds, manipulate emotions, or just overpower you completely."
"I'm not going to get raped," I insist, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "I'm going to be careful. I'm not planning to get in over my head or confront anyone way above my level."
Ellie lets out a harsh laugh, shaking her head. "Listen to yourself. You're already sounding too cocky for your own good."
"I saved soone today," I counter, sitting up straighter. "That guy with the purse would've been robbed if I hadn't stepped in."
"It was one fucking regular mugger, Shane!" Ellie throws her hands up in exasperation. "One normal human woman with no powers, no weapons, nothing but the elent of surprise. And you're acting like you took down Doctor Doom!"
I open my mouth to argue but find myself hesitating. She's not entirely wrong. The mugger had been an ordinary person, not so super-powered villain. But still, I had helped soone. That has to count for sothing.
"Everyone starts sowhere," I say finally, my voice quieter but still determined.
Ellie stares at for a long mont, her expression shifting from frustration to sothing else entirely. She steps closer, towering over , her shadow falling across my face.
"You know what?" she says, her voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Maybe I should just lock all the doors right now." Her eyes narrow, sothing predatory glinting in those icy blue depths. "What if I just decided to keep you here? Never let you leave this apartnt again?"
A shiver runs through that has nothing to do with fear. My mouth goes dry as I look up at her.
"Well," I manage, my voice coming out embarrassingly husky, "if you're planning to keep prisoner, I hope you realize I'd require a lot of attention. I'm pretty high maintenance as captives go."
Her lips twitch, fighting a smile as she leans down, hands coming to rest on either side of on the couch, effectively caging in.
"Is that right?" she murmurs, her face now inches from mine. "And what kind of attention would that be, exactly?"
I reach out and grab her hips, pulling her closer to . "How about this? You date , and I'll tell you all about the attention I need."
Ellie shakes her head, but I catch the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of her lips.
I duck under her arms with a dramatic huff, slipping away from her cage-like stance. "This tsundere act is getting tireso, Brock," I say, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the wall. "We both know you like ."
Ellie rolls her eyes, but the symbiote's movent grows more agitated, black tendrils briefly visible beneath the surface of her skin.
"Symbiote," I call out, addressing the alien entity directly, "please tell her it's ti she fucking devours already."
Ellie goes completely still, her eyes unfocusing slightly as she listens to sothing I can't hear. The symbiote's response must be quite animated because her expression cycles through shock, embarrassnt, and finally, irritation.
"Shut the fuck up," she hisses, clearly not talking to . "Don't listen to him. He's just trying to goad you."
I step closer, my heart hamring against my ribs. "That's not true," I say softly, reaching for her hand. "I ant what I said, Ellie."
Her blue eyes narrow. She pulls her hand away from mine, taking a deliberate step back.
"I'm not going to help you," she says, her voice suddenly hard as steel. "Once you go out there in that costu, you're on your own. I won't be protecting you."
"I didn't expect you to," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the hollow feeling spreading through my chest. "So it's fine."
She shakes her head, a muscle working in her jaw as she stares at with a mixture of frustration and sothing that might almost be concern.
"Whatever then, Shane," she mutters, turning away from .
I decide to let the conversation die, my eyes drifting back to the untouched food on her coffee table. All this tension is making my stomach growl, and I'm not about to let good Chinese food go to waste over another one of our circular argunts.
"Co on," I say, gesturing toward the spread of containers, "the food's getting cold."
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