"Listen, I've got a proposition for you," Azure's firm voice flew across the soft wind of the graveyard, "something mutually beneficial."
Elliot stepped back slightly, "I doubt that."
Azure stepped closer and the street light flickered; he the...
He began cleaning the counter top, wiping any excess spills, "Regardless if you were one, it doesn't currently matter to me."
"That's true, you're teaming up with a supposed sociopath after all," he grinned.
"You're right, I try to stick with my morals but that doesn't change what I agreed to do. Still, I am not a naïve child like you seem to think."
Elliot, continued, looking up directly into his eyes, "Be careful what you look down on because no matter how smart you are, no one is ever fully right."
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Tuesday, October 6, 2020
A soft thud, his pencil fell onto the notebook as he leaned his head against his palm.
His clock read two a.m.
Like a tide pool striped from the ocean, emanating from his laptop, the soft haze of dull blue tinted his room.
Elliot sat at his desk, reading his biology textbook and trying to finish the rest of his homework for the day.
ATP production, the electron transport chain? Shouldn't it be known as oxidative phosphorylation now? Well they're different but...
A sigh escaped as he moved his palm to his forehead, his fingers interlaced through his hair slightly.
He wasn't sure why he was so tired lately.
Maybe seasonal depression was finally getting to him. It was already October, every "ber" month was a little depressing after-all.
Or maybe it was the cold that was seeping in through the poorly insulated walls. He knew he should've been more meticulous at covering the drywall.
Occasionally, his dad or Liam broke the drywall while Elliot had to patch it up. Back then he was so scared they'd get evicted, he smiled at the funny memories. Despite everything he would say he did a pretty good job.
...
Maybe he felt lonely.
...I'm not lonely. He shook his head. The thought clung to the back of his mind, he forgot exactly when it began to stalk him. But it was incessant, pervasively clinging to him like a parasite, whittling, gnawing, manically eating at his attention.
Was he lonely?
He narrowed his eyebrows.
I'm fine.
He always had a sinking feeling he tried so hard to ignore, but it always got worse around this time of year.
But feelings are easy to disregard. They're not exactly real.
Her death anniversary was already over, it's been years.
