Just a short Sean/Ellie drabble set somewhere after Anywhere I Lay My Head but before the..err...shooting. Obviously.
Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, Ellie, Sean or the apartment they live in. (Or any apartment, for that matter). As always, I enjoy feedback-positive, constructive...communicative?. Anything. Enjoy!
Living Arrangements
She's just stepping out of the shower when he thrusts the door open, yelling something about deodorant and going out with Jay and cars. When he looks up, they both freeze, their faces twisting into identical expressions of doe-eyed shock. Ellie is the first to move, snatching the towel from the rack and letting out a squeal that would be better suited coming from a pig than a person. Sean's face, meanwhile, has somehow bypassed red and turned stark white. It isn't until Ellie stutters out, "S-S-Sean," that he finds the wherewithal to back out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Ellie hasn't moved from her spot somewhere in between the shower and the sink, and she feels a funny coiling in her stomach that could be mortification or—nope, she's pretty sure it couldn't be anything but mortification.
They haven't exactly worked out this whole living-together thing.
Clearly.
"Sean," she calls tentatively after a few minutes, her face turning twelve kinds of red with embarrassment. "Are you, um, alright?"
She can't hear very much because the door is—mercifully—closed again, but she does catch him muttering something. "Sean," she repeats, hands still clutching her towel, "it's ok. Really. It happens… it's not your fault."
She thinks she hears a faint "sorry" from behind the door and for a moment, she feels a grim sort of satisfaction. Good, she thinks, that'll teach him to knock. But as soon as the thought flits across her mind, she feels the snarky-ness drain away. It was Sean who walked in on her, not some creep like Jay Hogart. "Really," she says again for emphasis, "if I had a nickel for every time I walked in on some guy changing…" When she hears a grudging chuckle, she knows they're in the clear. She presses on, "I mean, this was bound to happen sometime…Maybe we should work out—"
"Ellie…Can we just never talk about this again?"
"Sean…"
"Please?"
"Only if you promise to pick up some chocolate cake on your way home," she quips, flush fading, lips quirking.
"Done!" He says with certainty.
She laughs, feeling the tension in her belly subside. He's still her Sean and she's still Ellie and the world hasn't stopped and the roof hasn't caved in. Thank God.