@doctordonovan / continued.
it's tucked under a pile of colored construction paper, the topmost sheet of which is a blinding pink that even ellie finds hard to look at. perhaps, just perhaps, mama won't want to look at it either, won't see more than ellie is ready for her to. ❛ its a secret, ❜ she protests, indignation warring with concern for a to-be-spoiled surprise. there's no fun in that. she's even drawn the curtains to keep out that oh-so-precious sunlight — and any unintentionally prying eyes from outside.
her mother misunderstands if she thinks ellie is concerned that she'll be in trouble for the disaster state of her room. though, now, as ellie truly looks at it for the first time, she cannot help but agree that it looks like a storm blew through, leaving only ( colorful, glittery ) wreckage in its wake. her fun art project will be followed by an extensive and not-very-fun cleaning, and there'll be no getting out of it.
❛ shhh, ❜ she addresses the waving bear in maeve's hands. ❛ you can't tell her. ❜ then ellie's gaze flickers to the clock upon her desk, ticking steadily. its face promises far less remaining daylight than she had intended. she gives her mama a long, considering, almost suspicious look. ❛ do you promise you won't look at it? won't spoil the surprise? ❜ because maybe, just maybe, she can leave her project for just a few minutes to go outside and play.