who is elliot? 

no one could possibly compare to the little sandy haired boy who knows no boundaries. elliot, elliot is ivy’s little half brother. everything that she is not, and to some extent, her best friend (even though, as most sibling rivalries go— they’d never admit it) the boy is her semi-soft, semi-spontaneous walking diary, and the admiration is surely reciprocated. they’re a selfless duo, always going out of their way to accommodate the other, even when it’s not convenient, and despite their creative differences, they appear to get along smashingly. despite their ability to appear glued at the hip, their three year age gap tends to put a rift between them. elliot cites it as a reason for their mindset differences. although unintentionally so, elliot swings to the opposite side of nearly every spectrum then ivy. where she’s ultimately responsible. he’s pales in comparison. where she’s mature, he’s lacking, and where her priorities are in order, he appears not to have any. not that she’s complaining, after all, they’ve schemed their way out of multiple dilemma’s throughout their unconventional upbringing. but in light of all of this, she still manages to keep her patience at a decent level when it comes to him. ivy tries her hardest to keep her little brother out of both, trouble and harm’s way—but something keeps telling her that those days are numbered. 

            it was slated to be a new beginning; or at least that was what she’d kept telling herself. the blissful summer of anderson and ivy had came to an abrupt halt and they were currently finding their way back into the uneasy pattern of “doing what the other humans did.” it was a strange and difficult feat. they’d abandoned their wary days and cashed them in for the day they’d both had been waiting for since they received their big yellow acceptance envelope’s: move in day. it was bittersweet — hell, maybe even downright melancholy, but above all it was exciting. the little redhead tugged on the end of her grey cardigan as she adverted her gaze downwards into the boxes of things she intended on taking with her on her new journey. there were a couple of memento’s that tugged a bit harder on her heart strings then others; like the “writer of the year plaque, given to her by her newspaper staff and the tiara she adorned on the crown of her head at prom. they were all fun high school memorabilia; but it was time for them to be shelved. after all, ivy nicolas was eighteen now and she’d even trimmed her hair to prove it (more so to herself). there was no use tugging the past into the future. she inhaled, before closing the boxes: a metaphor for silencing her protruding nostalgia. ivy clicked her tongue against the inner cavern of her cheek as she looked over her nearly vacant room. god, she thought to herself. elliot would have a field day with this room when i’m gone. “do you think i should proof it? maybe invest in a ‘no little brothers allowed” sign?” she asked anderson as she struggled to pick up a box of her own clothing. surely he’d have a logical answer. he always did. “i’d bet my left hand that elliot will put a hole in a wall by christmas.” she concluded.