Re-enter the Dragon
After what felt like forever with no less than three near incidents of emesis, there would be an end to waiting. The longer she sat waiting, the more uncertain she was with what she wanted. Ellie didn't want to be sent walking from Quidditch, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't in a good place. She wasn't handling any of it. And maybe it would be for the best. And maybe, just maybe, she had arrived at a place where it wasn't her choice anymore.
Fuck, she doubted she deserved any small bit of sympathy, but at the same time she needed help. So, she had sat, just there, frozen to the seat, scribbling words and doodles on her arms with a marker she almost had on her person, tracing over the now situationally ironic 'still I rise' on her wrist. There was just too much ... things, thoughts really, swirling in the pit of her stomach and that storm never died down. She didn't know how to process them or how to let go of them so that she could move on.
Ellie pulled her sleeve down to cover her arms when she heard the door open. Right. Presentable. Adult. She could probably do this. But then again, maybe not. She looked up, giving Owen a look that did little to hide her inner turmoil. "So, am I walking into my execution?"