Right, kiddos, I'm going by Tyella fanart, so I'm sorry if I get a few facts wrong. Also, their speech, sorry. In the books they both sounded kind of clipped and short so that's how I'm going to do it. Sue me. Another thing, this story shows up when you type in Nico's ice bucket challenge! Don't know why this makes me happy, but hey.
"Ella do Ice Bucket Challenge?" Tyson asked his girlfriend who sat on the sofa next to him. She was reading, her long silky red hair hanging in front of her face. She looked up at him, chewing on her thumbnail. She smiled absent-mindedly.
"Ice Bucket Challenge?" she asked, her brow furrowed slightly. "Bucket or pail is typically a watertight, vertical cylinder or truncated cone, with an open top and a flat bottom, attached to a semicircular carrying handle called the bail. A common volume is 10 liters-"
Tyson tilted his head, "No, Ice Bucket Challenge is you pour water on your head. And film it. And share with friends and family."
Ella tilted her head, "I do it?" Tyson nodded eagerly.
"Tyson do it, he ask Ella to do it, Ella do it!" he explained.
Ella smiled, "Okay. Ella will do it!"
Tyson smiled, Ella would like it.
XXXxxxXXX
Ella clasped the bucket Tyson had given her. He had gone and collected the water, making sure it wasn't too cold or too hot. She liked Tyson; he was funny and kind and liked listening to her spout facts. He had even got a bucket that matched her hair.
The girl, Rachael was helping them. Tyson had borrowed her camera before and said it was a very good one. Rachael said she didn't have much to do, so she could wait for them to do it. She hadn't left the camera and kept a protective hand on it.
Ella had a suspicion it had something to do with Tyson accidently, almost crushing her camera before.
He hadn't meant it.
"Okay, three, two, one, go!" Rachael gave her a thumbs up and started the camera.
A blinking red light began flashing. Ella froze. What should she do? What should she do?
Tyson came to her rescue, like usual.
"I'm Ella." He whispered. Ella sent him a weird look, "I'm Ella."
"Noo, you say: I'm Ella." He told her. Ella suddenly understood. It was like a script.
"I'm Ella." She informed the camera.
"And this is my Ice Bucket Challenge."
"And this is my Ice bucket Challenge."
"Thank you Tyson for nominating me."
"Thank you Tyson, for being a great boyfriend and nominating me."
She could see Tyson going red in the corner of her eye. She smiled to herself.
"An-and… do you want to nominate anyone?" he stuttered. Ella shook her head. She didn't have many friends.
"And I'm not going to nominate anyone else."
"And I'm not going to nominate anyone else."
"Now tip it over yourself."
"Now tip it ove- oh."
She raised the bucket over herself, her slim arms trembling slightly.
With a long gush the water filling the watertight, vertical cylinder or truncated cone, with an open top and a flat bottom, attached to a semicircular carrying handle, emptied itself out over her long hair.
It was plastered to her scalp and she scraped it out of her eyes, giggling softly.
She hesittated before doing a thumbs-up to the camera.
Rachael stopped filming and clapped her hands. Ella smiled at her before a big wall of Cyclops hit her and she was scooped up into a hug.
"YAY! Go Ella!" he yelled, causing a passing camper to look in, confused.
Rachael interrupted by holding up the camera and coughing slightly.
"I'll go upload this now." She said and began walking to her cave-house-den-whatever.
Tyson let go of Ella and smiled sheepishly.
She smiled again and, going on tip-toes, gently pressing her lips to his cheek. He went bright-red again.
"You almost match my hair," she muttered, but he still heard.
"Your hair prettier." He confided.
She smiled self-consciously and tucked a wet strand behind her ear. In doing so, she ruffled her sodden wings.
"Oh," she realized, flapping them awkwardly.
"Oh, Ella's wings wet." Tyson noticed and patted her head.
"Wait here." He told her and ran off.
Ella frowned, shaking her feathers. She picked at each feather, squeezing the water out of them.
Then, suddenly, Tyson was beside her again, brandishing a large, white, fluffy towel.
"Tyson dry Ella wings!" he exclaimed. Ella giggled and held her arms out. He knelt and began gently stroking each petite, scarlet feather.
Ella stood there, her arms out. But she wasn't flying. Not literally. But she was sky-high in love with Tyson.
Ick, that bit was grossly cheesy. Don't mind me. I'll update again on weds but no solid promises.
I hope you've all had a great day and have a great one tomorrow.
Fez.