A/N: Oh, yes, I am a proud Hattie/Ella shipper. I love it. Anyway, this is just a little drabble that I decided to do, set after the epilogue in the book. At least three years after, if I'm being fair. So, enjoy.

I do not own Ella Enchanted. It belongs to Gail Carson Levine.

Can't Help It

Oh, gods, must she do that? She stands there, all posh and important, delighted in the act of rubbing her royalty in my face.

Oh, yes, ha ha, Ella-dear, how funny. You're queen, and I'm not. You're living my dream. How delightfully amusing.

At least now I know why she insists on inviting me to these insipid balls. Just for laughs, just to fuel her ego. Honestly, I thought I was supposed to be the haughty one in this scenario. Role-reversal is perfectly fine in the bedroom, but certainly not in these situations…


She's laughing now; just like her father, head thrown back, and her shoulders heaving. I can't help but stare, because--if I'm being painfully honest--she is beautiful. As much as I hate admitting it--she is, especially in this pose, with her mouth open, a smile curving the sides of her lips, and her eyes alight with amusement. I hate what she makes me feel, those dimmable sensations of…jubilance whenever she looks at me. I feel silly, because it shouldn't be like this. It should be the other way around. But it's not, and I can't help but like being caught in her web.

I hate her, yet I want her. I hate admitting it, yet I want to say it.

Because I can't help it.

Oh, yes, Hattie, masochism is perfectly funny. Gauche, but funny. So, go on and stare at Ella, stare until the fires of unrequited desire burns itself through your very core. Go on.

Because you can't help it.

A/N: I really just wrote this because I wanted to do something in Hattie's POV. Plus, I like the idea of Ella being the dominate one in the relationship. It's just…cool, I don't really know how to explain it. Anyway, reviews are loved!