Ella Sullivan is an 18-year-old high school senior with a sharp wit and a penchant for sarcasm. Her life revolves around her close-knit group of friends and the love for her dog. But her world is thrown into disarray when she encounters Ms. Catherin...
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———༺✵༻——— POV Ella ———༺✵༻———
I wake up to the soft rustling of blankets and the warmth of sunlight streaming through the living room windows. For a moment, I forget where I am, my mind hazy with the remnants of sleep. But then, as I blink my eyes open, the first thing I see is Catherine. She's sitting at the edge of the couch, her face illuminated by the soft morning light, her eyes already on me. A gentle smile spreads across her lips as she sees I'm awake.
"Morning," she says softly, her voice still hushed, as if she doesn't want to disturb the quiet peace of the room. "How are you feeling?"
I stretch a little, testing my body for any lingering aches or fever. "Better," I reply, my voice a little raspy from sleep. "A lot better, actually."
Catherine's smile widens with relief, and she reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The simple gesture fills me with a sense of warmth and comfort, the kind that only she can bring. But then a thought occurs to me, and I glance at the clock on the wall. It's well past the time when she should have been at work.
"Shouldn't you be at school?" I ask, frowning slightly. "You'll get in trouble if you're late."
"I called in sick about an hour ago," she says, her tone light but firm. "I want to spend the day with you."
I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips, even though I try to suppress it. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm okay now."
Catherine gives me a look that's somewhere between affection and exasperation. "Ella, you were practically dead to the world yesterday. There's no way I'm leaving you alone today."
Her words bring back the hazy memories of yesterday—how sick I was. I remember Catherine taking care of me, making sure I was comfortable. The thought of her doing all that for me, of her being here now, makes my heart swell with gratitude.
"Thank you," I say, my voice soft with sincerity. "For everything."
"Of course," she replies, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. "Now, how about I make us some breakfast? Something light, since you're still recovering."
I nod, grateful for her thoughtfulness. As Catherine stands up and heads towards the kitchen, I slowly sit up, feeling a bit of dizziness as I do. It's a reminder that I'm not fully back to normal yet, and I decide to take it easy for now. But that doesn't stop me from following her into the kitchen, wanting to be near her.
I take a seat at the counter, watching as Catherine moves around the kitchen. She looks slightly out of place, not quite knowing where everything is, but she handles it with a kind of calm assurance that makes me smile. She opens a few cabinets, searching for the right ingredients, and glances back at me every now and then to make sure she's doing things right.
