She likes to think that Ella likes her.

Late at night, when it's dark, and the manor is quiet, she likes to pretend that they're friends. Friends. Something simple, something without an attachment so strong that it makes her feel claustrophobic. She doesn't like tight spaces. She doesn't like to be closed in. But, sometimes, she thinks that that's what royalty is. Being closed in. Being on the inside. Looking outside at the world she once knew. She'd throw away freedom. She's pick up responsibility.

She doesn't like to think about that.

But, she does like to think about Ella. She wants to hate Ella. She wants to hurt her. Pull her hair, smack her face-anything. That would be ruining something beautiful, though. Spoiling something fres. Hattie didn't know if she really wanted to. She didn't know if she liked the power. But she had it. And that was all that mattered, really.

So, she thinks about Ella some more.

She thinks about green eyes, and black hair. She thinks her hair looks like soot. Cinders. CinderElla. She thinks the name has a nice ring to it. She wonders if Ella would like it, if Ella would like to go by it. But she knows better, she thinks. And she doesn't want to make Ella mad. No, she wants Ella to like her. She wants Ella to gravitate towards her. To want her. What kind of want...she could never answer? So many questions.

She pulls the covers up to her chin. She's tired, and the world is a blur, and her eyes are heavy. Everything is spinning. Things are warm. All because she thougt about Ella wanting her. W a n t i n g. Ella wanting wanting '.?

Hattie didn't know anymore.

She didn't think she wanted to know. She wanted to sleep..

Not with Ella. Nothing with Ella, please, I don't I want to sleep.

She closes her eyes.

And sleep doesn't come.

But Ella does.