Sad Songs for Scott Carver (girlxgirl)

Three

Luke was trying to get her to go to Flying Scotts.

"Come on Elliot, it'll be fun. Even The Fused Kings going to be there!" He whined as he propped his dirty feet onto her working chair, his back leaning against the wall next to her bed. He raised one eyebrow, "Your favourite band?"

Ellie sighed. Within the past few minutes, Luke has managed to successfully invade her room, and then her bed, and now her chair. Reminding her to really should lock the door properly next time.

"It's The Fused Strings," She said, eyeing him bashfully. "And don't call me that."

"Call you what?" He sat up. Eyes wide, lips all smirking. "Elliot?"

"Urgh" She grunted, then used her hand to shove his feet down the ground. She couldn't remember the last time she's been to Flying Scotts. All she knew was that it was a small bar on Beaufort Street, and that it was almost always surrounded by drunks.

She gave it a hard sigh, then took her glasses off. "You know I'm underage, Luke." She said nimbly, staring at his amble forehead.

"And I got you a fake ID."

"One that I certainly did not asked for."

"Oh Elliot," He shifted his body towards her, his face all frustrated, maybe even hurt. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life writing sadistic love poems when you could really get out into the real world, and maybe, even hook up with your little drummer friend tonight?"

"Firstly," She cleared her throat. "Never gonna happen. Secondly, they're not love poems, they're songs."

"You didn't argue with the sadistic part."

"Oh shut up."

Luke let out a laugh that ended as soon as it starts. "Why not?" His voice suddenly became stern. He was looking at her all serious now, like he was demanding a proper answer.

"Why not what?" She asked him, despite knowing exactly what her brother meant.

"Why not?" He repeated. And Ellie knew she had to give him an answer this time.
She stared at him. At his brown eyes and preppy nose. At his pointy chin that always seemed too sharp for the shape of his own head. At his lanky ginger hair that reminded Ellie of their mother so much. Too much.

Luke has never looked older than Ellie. Even when they were kids, people would always assumed that Ellie was the older one. And even when Luke has grown to be at least three inches taller than her, people would still think that she was his older sister. Which never really bothered Ellie (but she would still be pretty contempt if one person has guessed right that she was indeed two years younger).

Ellie knew that she didn't look like Luke. If anything, she resembled their dad more than ever. She wasn't naturally skinny like Luke was, and she didn't have extremely pale skin and ginger hair either. She was just this blob of light brown hair and grey eyes and freckles and curves. (And glasses, and awkwardness, and slightly crooked teeth.)
And some days she would like herself.
Most days she would not.

She averted away from his eyes, shaking her head, "I don't belong in places like that," She said, looking down into the purple mattress of her bed, "I don't even look nice."

"Of course you look nice!" He almost yelled and startled her, "You're my sister, Elliot," He said, then stood up like he was delivering Martin Luther King Jr.'s speech, "You're the most-irresistible-straight-male-in-college's sister and you think you don't look nice?"

Much to her embarrassment, she cracked out laughing, "I don't even look like you." She said in between giggles.

"So what? Doesn't mean you're not beautiful."

"I'm not beautiful, Luke." She said, "I'm not even skinny."

He rolled his head and looked over at her like she was joking, "You do know that boys like a little more booty to hold at night."

She sniggered. Then looked at him for the longest of times. They were both silent now, and she could see his eyes again. His baby blue ones - which drove girls crazy and resembled the sky. Her mother's baby blue ones. They were as light as they were innocent.

She thought about it, and gave him her answer, "Okay."

***

There were people.
There were drunks.

Ellie regretted the decision of coming here as soon as she'd arrived at that ugly wooden sign that had a badly painted Scottish man on it. Everything was so vile and so loud and so not-her-style. Of the minutes she'd been here, the only thing Ellie had thought about was how she would rather be at home, cuddled up on her bed, listening to Bon Iver instead.

As she has guessed, Luke abandoned her right as they came. He said something like, "You need to learn to socialise without me." And trotted towards the bar with some Asian girls he called his 'chicks'.

Ellie pulled out her phone to check the time. It was only 7:30, and she was pretty sure that The Fused Strings wasn't going to come out in at least thirty minutes. She sighed. Repeatedly. Again and again. She just stood there and sighed.

She was pretty sure that she was just going to continue sighing until she saw two people approaching her. One was dressed in all black - tall, hair ruffled. As they got closer, Ellie realised she knew exactly who they were.

It was Scott and Fee; the weird girl with the MCR shirt, except she wasn't wearing it this time.

Ellie took one step back subconsciously. She looked at him, and her chest fell. Like she was a pilot on a plane, falling backwards midair down to the hard soil of the Earth. Jesus. She wanted to get out of there.

They both came closer to her, and the girl seemed more excited than Scott was. When they were close enough, Fee smiled at her. Not the wide smile she gave her last week at the record store, but a small, slightly more polite smile. Still, the dimples showed. And it was like she was gleaming again. Ellie almost smiled back.

"Record store girl." Fee said, her voice was mellow as her face pulled into the widest grin in the world.

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A/N: Hey, I hope that you're enjoying the story. If you are then please vote or comment because that would be greatly appreciated.

Lex :))