Saving Elliot: One Shot

SE One Shot | This Hope Is Treacherous

: : SAVING ELLIOT | ONE SHOT: 'THIS HOPE IS TREACHEROUS'

(Fintry's POV)

Knock. Knock.

        After what feels like an everlasting minute, there's a shuffling sound from inside the house before a silhouette appears. A familiar scraping of hinges fills the silence before the door swings open to reveal an angry little blonde with a chip on her shoulder. Clad in pyjama shorts and a tank top that has ridden up to expose her stomach, Elliot Jensen looks nothing less than extraordinarily beautiful - except for the faint crust of drool that marks a path starting from the corner of her full lips to her chin.

        Cute.

        "It's bloody two in the morning," she snaps in a low groan, eyes partially closed as she leans heavily on the door frame. By the looks of it, I'm pretty sure she's still clinging onto the fringes of her slumber, desperate to go back to sleep.

        "Well hello to you too, munchkin."

        Her eyes fling open, bulging out of their sockets as they rake up and down my body. Repeating the movement, she pretty much gawks at me for an entire minute, opening and closing her mouth until her jaw hits the floor, leaving her mouth wide enough to catch a billion flies and still have room for more. Typical Jensen.

        "Are you going to let me in or what?" I wrap my long fingers around the suitcase handle and jerk my chin at the door, waiting for her brain to overcome its slight – possibly major – malfunction as she continues to gawk at me. "Nice pyjamas by the way."

        The bubble encasing her mind pops and she snaps out of her trance, blinking like a blind person seeing for the first time. A flush creeps up her neck just as her eyes grow accustomed to my unexpected presence. She yanks her tank top down until it stretches over her butt. When she crosses her arms over her chest, my gaze lowers and I smirk when she curses and uncrosses her arms.

        "You c-can't be here," Jensen stammers. "I thought you were coming back after Results Day."

        "I decided to book an earlier flight," I reply coolly, unable to keep my irritation in check while she continues to block the doorway. "Damn it Jensen, will you just let me in?"

        Suddenly her manners kick in and she blinks twice before nodding. I stride past her, unintentionally knocking into her shoulder as I make a beeline for the stairs, eager to rid myself of my suitcase that happens to weigh twice as much as the entire planet. When I steal a glance over my shoulder, I try not to stare too long at the awe that lights up her eyes like an bright nebula.

        "Lost for words?" I remark, snapping her out of her daze as she hurries after me.

        "Not even close," she grumbles and the light in her eyes powers off at my cocky tone.

        "Whatever you say, munchkin."

        She's annoyed but I can't be bothered to dwell on it for too long. What was she expecting; some kind of emotional reunion? We both know I don't do emotions or reunions.

        I don't bother switching on the light to my bedroom, hastily dumping my suitcase behind the door. Although the blinds are drawn, most of the room is lost in shadows and I sense her moving at its periphery when I seat myself on the edge of the bed. She hovers by the door, bathed in long horizontal strips of moonlight that have escaped the blinds, eyes shimmering the way a swimming pool does when sunlight strikes the surface, shifting and constantly moving, half with unease and the rest with longing. It's a kaleidoscope of silvers and blues.