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So incase anyone wasn't aware one of the regions, like Brazil and the US, outside of the UK that has a substantial Who following is China. Unlike the former two though China has it's own bespoke merch line and, for whatever reason, they market the show like it's Miffy or Hello Kitty.
They're so adorable, I love how Eleven looks completely Gormless and Ten looks infuriating to talk to. Both are very accurate
Twelve's attack eyebrows and Fifteen's Moustache are so cute too.
Got to draw a bunch of ███l █████it█ ██tle guys for the Hidden Depths bundle on steam! please check it out, every game is worth your time and brainpower and is soooo normal
a/n - first elliot fic we uppp. this is my longest fic yet... not much of a love triangle but more of a longing complication? also song has nothing to do w the fic, the song title js fits. as always thank u for the support 💋💋 and the inbox open for requests, questions & vents. dm and comment to b on taglist, ENJOY!!
the smoke is thick, the lights are dim. you are laying on your stomach, stretched like a cat across elliot’s unmade bed. elliot is on the beanbag next to his bed, his guitar long forgotten in his lap as he takes long, deep drag of the joint between his long fingers. jules is sitting, her back up against the wall with her gaze on elliot, and rues head in her lap and her face displaying a dazed grin, as the two share the joint.
you were hesitant to seemingly barge in on this friend group’s dynamic, but when rue insisted you would prefer her friends over your toxic ones (who have since been cut off), and when you saw how hot elliot was, it didn’t seem so bad anymore.
you fit in well. initially, you had assumed that elliot was kinda just third wheeling rue and jules, but you came to learn that the three of them were all very close. especially when they smoked. catching on quickly to their games of ‘truth or dare’ that sometimes would involve kissing and touching each other.
they went easy on you though, since you were newer to the group. never made you really make out with anyone or anything like that. as much as you appreciated them trying to make you feel comfortable, a part of you longed for a chance to be with elliot, who you had gotten closer to, even if it was just for a dare.
all your thoughts dissipate from your head as you feel elliot’s tattooed finger tap your arm, offering the blunt he was just smoking. you give him a smile and take it, immediately taking a long drag. he blinks, his big brown eyes red and a bit glassy from the weed he’d been smoking for the past thirty minutes. the corners of his mouth perk up as he watches you smoke, and he mumbles.
“pretty.”
the smoke slightly catches in your throat, and you quickly cough it up as jules clears her throat. her and rue are both high as well. “you guys wanna play truth or dare?” she asks, grinning at elliot. “yeah someone gooooo” rue slurs with a big smile, and you laugh softly, taking another hit as your vision becomes more hazy, nearly matching their high now.
elliot sets his guitar aside and crawls onto the bed, sitting next to you. “you wanna play, you ask me first jules.” he says as his smile pulls into a smirk.
jules moves aside, rue sitting up and watching her, blowing smoke out of her mouth. “oh yeah, you want me to ask first?” she laughs, treading closer to the bed where elliot is sat and you lay, your cheeks feeling hot as your eyes move between the two of them.
“truth or dare, elliot?” jules asks with a smile.
“truth,” elliot huffs out. “m’gonna be boring.” he says as he adjusts his position, his t-shirt riding up a bit, giving you a glimpse of his smooth, tan skin.
jules rolls her eyes and taps her finger on her chin, trying to push an idea out her high brain. after a couple seconds, elliot begins to zone out, his glassy eyes falling on you laying next to him.
“hey,”
“hi”
“your hair is long…” elliot mumbles out, his brain a lazy mess.
“yeah i need to cut it, thinking of getting highlights. some lighter ones.”
your eyes flick from your hair to elliot's palm, warm on your scalp. you find yourself melting into his touch as he begins to stroke your hair gently.
“don’t. i mean- like you can if you wanna… but its like… super soft, y’know?”
you laugh at the blank look on his face. he always gets all cute when he’s high. elliot continues rambling, and you listen intently, the both of you in your own little sunshine high world.
“you got soft hair. lots of it. my hair’s a bit crunchy from the dye n’shit. you also have a lot of hair on your eyelashes. especially when you put on mascara and whatever, i can see ‘em. speaking of your makeup, i think the sparkly shit you put on your eyes is dope. it makes your eyes look real pretty. like a fairy. a shimmery one, that is really super pretty with-”
“elly!” jules exclaims and you both look up at her with glassy eyes. “sorry jules… uh, what’s my dare?” he says as he transitions from stroking your hair to twisting the ends of it. “you picked truth, dumbass.” rue says from the floor, blowing out smoke.
“it’s fine elly, don’t worry. so… your truth is,” jules says as elliot stares at her. “who is the best kisser here?”
elliot’s agape mouth forms a small smile, his white teeth showing as he shrugs. “dunno. haven’t kissed all of you. also i can’t say me sooo…” jules puts a hand on her hip and furrows her brows. “you haven’t?” she inquires.
“haven’t kissed y/n,” elliot says as his eyes flicker to you then back to jules.
your stomach flutters. looking down at yourself, you discreetly adjust your cleavage in your tank top, and shit, did your breath smell good?
“oh, i guess i can just give you another truth then-” jules starts before elliot cuts her off. “nah, its cool. i’m feelin’ kinda curious now,” he turns to you, blowing a puff of smoke next to you. “are you curious too y/n?”
the weed clouding your brain is getting you really excited about this. you scoot closer to him. “very curious.” you say, smiling your pretty smile at him. elliot coos at your happy expression, and sets the joint aside.
elliot maneuvers closer to you, his arm landing behind you. past his shoulder, you can see rue focused on her blunt, and jules watching the two of you intensely, almost… jealously?
you are quickly distracted by the feeling of elliot’s lips on yours, kissing you messily, some remnants of smoke flowing in and out of each other’s mouths. the kiss is smoky, dizzy, and hot as fuck. your hands thread through his half bleached head of hair, as his rub circles on your waist through your red tank top.
jules clears her throat, trying to get elliot’s attention. “y’all done yet?” she speaks, half joking, half annoyed. rue chuckles. “give them a few more seconds, its hot.”
moving the blunt from rue’s fingers to her lips, jules takes a drag as she tries not to interfere.
you lean back, letting elliot fall on top of you, his chest against yours as his lips move messily and hungrily over yours.
as quick as it escalated, it ended, with a string of saliva connecting yours and elliot’s lips together. you blink, your eyes glassy from the adrenaline and red from the marajuana.
looking to your side, you see that jules had cupped elliot’s cheek with her pale hand, and was now kissing him. he pulls away after a few seconds with a stupid weed-induced grin.
“woah, there’s only one of me damn…” he mumbles out, and this makes you laugh a bit. jules joins the two of you on the bed and re-states her question. “sorry, elly. i just wanted to refresh you before you answer my question. me, rue, or y/n. best kiss?” she asks, sitting up in anticipation.
elliot hums, looking at the ceiling and thinking. you are still laid back on the bed, with a happy, contented smile. he then clears his throat. “i mean, i’m not tryna offend no one, and you guys are all great, but uh, i gotta tell the truth right? so y/n.”
the weed is hitting your brain in waves, especially as of right now. you are spaced out, looking at the ceiling with wide eyes and your pink lips, still wet from the kiss, parted ever so slightly.
elliot chuckles a bit and pokes your cheek. “ya hear me pretty girl? i liked your kiss most.” your eyes focus on him and you grin happily. “yaay!” you exclaim. elliot laughs again, as he lights another blunt. you eye it suspiciously. “what’s on your mind?” elliot inquires, with half lidded eyes as he fiddles with the blue lighter in his hand. your eyes dart down to the neatly rolled joint in elliot’s hand, and the contents of it.
“this,” you take the joint once its lit, and bring it to your lips. “its random but, i’ve never actually bought weed, yknow? maybe i should pay you back. like, how much is weed?” you ramble on.
AN HOUR LATER.
the game had now strung on for a while, the joints passed around enough times to ensure that everyone in the room was drifting somewhere between lucid and gone.
rue was sprawled out, her eyes half shut and her lazy smile stayed plastered on her lips like it had been for hours now, as she participated and watched the three of you play the game on the bed. jules sat with her legs crossed and had tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, as she idly drummed her finders on her knees, thinking.
“okaaay,” jules says, locking her eyes on elliot. “dare.”
elliot looks at her with confusion, as his head spins from his high. “i didn’t ask you-” “i’m asking for one.” jules says simply, accidentally cutting him off. you look at jules, and then to elliot, mildly disappointed because it was elliot’s turn to ask you, but whatever. you were too gone to give a fuck.
as he hums in thought, elliot leans back onto his pillow as he looks at jules. “alright,” he begins slowly, “i dare you to… fuckin’, draw somethin’ on me.” he gestures to himself. you blink and let out a breathy laugh at the basic ass dare. jules looks pretty disappointed, but quickly puts a front up as rue sits up to watch everything unfold.
“that’s my dare for you. happy?” elliot smirks, stubbing out the joint on the sticker-covered black ashtray on the bedside table next to him. “alright then,” jules says lightly as she dizzily reaches in her bag and pulls out a black eyeliner.
elliot offers up his forearm, sticking it out towards jules, but staying laid next to you. after a few moments jules doodles a little moon and a star on his inner wrist. you and elliot analyze it for a moment, before looking up at jules.
“that’s what you went with?” elliot says, smiling. “shut up, its cute elly.” jules says back, scooting closer to him. you fiddle with elliot’s sheets below you and mumble with a smile "i would've drawn a penis.”
elliot bares his teeth for a second, his smile widening. “real cute.” he says. jules inserts her arm between you and elliot, reaching to touch her drawing, ending the moment between the two of you. you look over at rue, and she is wearing a puzzled expression, almost as if she noticed as well.
“my turn,” you say after an awkward beat of silence, your high, clouded brain fishing around for words. the three of them turn to look at you. “truth or dare, jules?”
jules leans back, putting the cap back onto her eyeliner, and tossing it into her bag. “dare.”
you think for a second, as you continue to ride the slow wave of your high. “i dare you to go cuddle rue.”
jules furrows her brows, and quickly glances at elliot’s laid down form. “why?”
“why?” you respond, confused. “you said dare”
rue lifts her head from across the room. “yeah, jules come sit with me,” she quietly slurs with a small smile, as she reaches her hand out for her girlfriend. and that’s the the thing that makes it complicated. the things that causes jules to hesitate, glancing down once more at elliot before sliding off the bed and settling in rue’s arms.
elliot shifts so that he is now sitting closer to you, and you turn to look at him, only to find that his eyes are already on you, making your face burn up.
“nice move,” he mumbles quietly, with his eyes still heavy lidded from the weed, and his mouth curving into a half smile as his eyes bore into yours.
you look up at him, your smile matching his. “i learned from the best.”
THE NEXT (EARLY HOURS OF) MORNING.
you and the rest of the group must have drifted off at some point, because when you opened your eyes, the dark of the night slowly fading into gray as you peer out the window.
you’re still on the bed. with elliot. some blanket was draped over you and elliot, as he was asleep beside you. his slow and steady breathing had been on your neck now. the two of you weren’t touching, but you were close. you blink slowly, and dart your eyes across the room.
jules and rue are both half on the floor, half on the beanbag tangled up. rue is on her back, and her mouth is slightly open as she sleeps, but jules’ eyes are open.
she doesn’t say anything. she just looks at you with an unreadable expression. not one of envy, longing, or warmth. just watching.
then she drops her gaze down to the miniscule amount of space between you and elliot on the bed.
and back up to your face.
then she closes her eyes.
you lay there, still and watching just as jules had been for a few minutes, listening to elliot breath and the distant sounds of cars outside. your head is still a bit foggy from the residue of substances you took part in last night.
eventually, your leg grows sore from its position, so you carefully peek the blanket off yourself and sit up, moving slowly as to not wake elliot. his tan skin almost looks like it has a sheen of gold from the sunrise, and his lips are slightly parted, just as they had been when he leaned in to kiss you.
cute. is what he probably would say if it were you, anyway.
you get up and find your sweater discarded on the floor and you begin putting it on. once you have your head through the hole, there is a shift of movement behind you.
“y/n.”
jules says, barely whispering.
you turn around to face her. she is sitting up now, her blonde hair messy and her eyes are tired. she picks at a loose thread on the blanket draped over her legs before she looks up at you.
“he talks about you,” she says quietly. “like, before last night even. he’d just… bring you up. a lot.”
you don’t say anything, just stand there and nod. you aren’t really sure what you’re supposed to say to that.
jules glances over at elliot asleep on his bed, one of his arms stretched out onto the spot you were just sleeping on. “i just wanted you to know that. that’s all.”
her voice is calm. not mad, or sad exactly. you can’t seem to put your finger on it. you sigh, not knowing what she is feeling, but not wanting her to feel bad either.
“jules,” you start. she shakes her head softly, not letting you continue. “it’s fine, really. i’m with rue.” she says, as she looks down at rue’s sleeping face and her eyes soften. “i love rue.”
nodding, you speak. “i know.”
jules looks at you for a long moment. then, slowly, the corner of her mouth lifts, just barely, close to a smile. “take care of him.”
a warm, yet heavy feeling settles in your chest. “okay.” you whisper with a smile.
jules nods at you, then lays back down, close to rue, and closes her eyes. you lay back down on the bed, this time facing elliot. his arm finds its way around your waist, and he exhales slowly against your neck.
“mm,” he mumbles. “‘s cold without you.”
“go back to sleep elliot.” you whisper back.
“mhm.” he agrees, already drifting off again.
you stay laid there for a few moments, in the gray early morning light, basking in the aftermath of last night’s high. elliot’s arm is now around you, and everyone is breathing slow and loud in the room.
not being sure how much time has passed, you must have fallen asleep. as you are waking up, you finally hear someone speak, and its rue.
“elliot your room smells like a dispensary.”
you come back to consciousness slowly, with a small smile on your face from rue’s humorous statement. elliot’s arm is still thrown over you, and at some point while you two were sleeping he’d gotten closer. his chest against your back, his chin on the top of your head.
“that’s cuz it basically is a dispensary.” elliot’s sleepy voice says from above you. rue hums agreeingly, as she sits up.
“what time is it?” jules inquires.
“like nine,” rue says.
“ugh.”
“your ass fell asleep at like eleven thirty.”
“WE fell asleep at eleven thirty.”
“i fell asleep at twelve, i think.”
“that is not fuckin’ true-”
elliot’s arm tightens around you slightly as he buries his face into your clean hair. “man, you guys are so loud.” he says, his voice muffled.
you blink a few times, and stare at the risen sun out the window. the room looks different than it did last night. in a weird way.
“morning.” you murmur out, to nobody in particular. rue and jules smile as they greet you good morning. you carefully shift, turning over to face elliot.
he looks rough, but still really hot, of course. his hair is a disaster, the bleached tips sticking up and around at various angles. his eyes are barely even open, and he has a small crease from the pillowcase fold against his cheek. he smiles, slow and sleepy.
“hi.” he says.
“hi.” you say back.
jules looks up from her phone and at everyone in the room. “anyone want like, coffee?” she says, already standing up. “i can make some.”
“jules you don’t know where shit is in my kitchen.” elliot says, rolling onto his back to talk to her. “i’ll figure it out.” she says smiling softly and closing the door behind her. rue eyes the door for a second and speaks. “ima go down with her. help her not fuck up your kitchen or something.” rue leaves the room.
and now its just you and elliot. he is looking at the ceiling, and you’re on your side looking at him.
“she’s okay.” you say quietly.
elliot is quiet for a second before replying.
“jules says she’s okay. doesn’t always mean she feels okay.”
you think back to the earlier hours of the morning, where she whispered to you when the skies were gray, and the two of you were the only ones awake.
“she told me you talked about me.” you say. “last night, she told me.”
elliot turns to look at you. he isn’t surprised or embarrassed, he just looks at you with his brown eyes.
“yeah.” he says simply.
“a lot apparently.”
“yeah.” he says again, the corners of his mouth slightly pulling up.
you look at him. “why didn’t you just-”
“because, y/n, it’s complicated. i know jules has always kinda been… it’s hard to explain. it’s not like-” he struggles to say, but continues. “i care about her a lot. and she’s with rue and rue is my… it’s just complicated.”
“and me?” you ask.
“you’re not complicated.” he says like it is the simplest thing in the world. elliot takes your hand into his. the sounds of the kitchen settle in the background, as jules and rue are in their own world, and you and elliot are in yours.
“elliot.” you say.
“yeah,”
“look at me.”
he turns his head. his eyes find yours and stay there.
“last night,” you begin.
“yeah.”
“did you feel that was just the game? or like…”
“which part?”
“you know which part.”
he holds your gaze, and squeezes your hand, and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear with his free hand, even though he doesn’t really need to.
“not just the game.”
your face feels warm and your stomach feels all fluttery and shit. you nod. “she told me to take care of you.” you say to him. “who?” elliot says, blinking. you laugh a bit at his obliviousness. “jules. she told me to take care of you."
elliot is quiet for a moment, processing it. then he looks back up at you.
“okay.” he says, quietly.
“okay?” you repeat.
“okay as in like,” he shifts onto his side so you guys are face to face now, his hand moving down from your hair to rest on your jaw. “i’ve been wanting to do this right for… a while. but not as a dare. just, properly.”
“so do it properly then.”
elliot looks at you for one more second, before closing the distance between you two and kisses you, soft and slow. unlike last night. last night was smoky and dizzy and hot. this was more soft and warm, no rushing. you press closer to him, your hand finding the gentle fabric of his thin sleep shirt, and you feel him smile against your lips slightly, before kissing you again. deeper this time.
when you finally pull apart you’re both quiet for a second. elliot smiles, saliva on his lips and nods. “i really like you, y/n.” he says. “i really like you too, elliot.” you say, smiling back.
elliot leans in a presses his lips against your hair. “we should probably go downstairs.” he mumbles, not moving. “probably.” you agree, also staying still.
DIVA TAGLIST. (dm/message to be on taglist. inbox always open.)
The neon sign outside the store buzzed faintly, casting that same washed out glow through the window, the kind Fez barely noticed anymore. Nights blurred together lately, same counter, same chair, same quiet, but something about them had shifted. Or maybe something was just missing.
He sat there with his phone in his hand, thumb hovering over your name like it had been every night for the past week. It still felt wrong seeing your contact pinned at the top, like nothing had changed, like you hadn’t walked out over something so small it didn’t even make sense anymore. That was the worst part, he couldn’t even replay the argument properly. It hadn’t been loud, hadn’t been dramatic. You’d just wanted him to talk, to explain what he was thinking, what he was feeling. And he’d shut down, like always. Said something short, something careless. You got quiet. Then you left.
He told himself at the time you’d come back. Or he’d fix it later. He always thought there was more time.
Now the silence felt permanent.
He unlocked his phone again, scrolling up through your messages. Dumb stuff. Memes. You complaining about something random, him replying hours later like it was nothing, and you still answering like you’d been waiting. His jaw tightened slightly at that. You had been patient with him, way more than he deserved.
He typed out a message.
“you good?”
He stared at it for a long moment, then sighed and deleted it. Too casual. Like nothing happened. Like he didn’t think about you every five minutes.
He leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand over his face. “Man…” he muttered under his breath, the word disappearing into the empty store. Ashtray was asleep in the back, the TV playing something low and irrelevant. Everything felt still in a way that made his chest feel tight.
He picked up the phone again before he could think too much.
hey
Sent.
The second it went through, he felt it, regret, nerves, something twisting low in his chest. He wasn’t good at this. Never had been. But not saying anything was worse now. Waiting felt worse.
Minutes passed. Too many. He checked if the message delivered. It had. No reply.
“Yeah… aight,” he murmured, more to himself than anything.
He lasted maybe ten minutes before opening the chat again.
i ain’t mean what i said
He paused, staring at the words. That wasn’t even all of it. It didn’t explain anything. It didn’t explain him.
Delete.
He tried again, slower this time.
i just… i don’t be sayin shit right sometimes
That felt closer. Not perfect. Not enough. But real.
He sent it before he could overthink it.
Silence again.
It stretched, filled the space around him, made everything feel louder, the hum of the fridge, the flicker of the sign, his own breathing. He stood up suddenly, pacing once behind the counter like he needed to shake something off, then sat back down just as quickly.
“Damn,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw.
Before he could stop himself, he hit call.
The ringing felt too loud in his ear. Each second dragged, made him think maybe you wouldn’t answer. Maybe you shouldn’t. He almost pulled the phone away.
Then click.
“…hello?”
He froze for half a second, like he hadn’t actually expected to hear your voice.
“Yeah,” he said, quieter now. “Hey.”
There was a pause, not empty, just heavy with everything sitting between you.
“I didn’t think you’d pick up,” he admitted.
“I almost didn’t,” you said, honest, but not cold.
“Yeah… that make sense.”
Another pause followed, softer this time. He could picture you without trying, where you might be, the way you probably looked down at your phone before answering. It made something in his chest ache.
“Why you callin, Fez?” you asked, your voice calm but careful.
He exhaled slowly, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “I been thinkin,” he said. “A lot.”
A faint breath of something like disbelief came from you. “That’s new.”
He huffed lightly. “Yeah, I know.”
Silence again, but it didn’t feel as sharp now. More like something waiting.
“I ain’t good at that shit,” he continued, quieter. “Talkin. Sayin what I mean. You know that.”
“I do,” you replied.
“And I know that ain’t fair to you.”
Your grip tightened slightly on the phone, though he couldn’t see it. That was closer than he’d gotten before.
“I just…” he stopped, frustrated, searching for words he never really learned how to use. “I ain’t wanna lose you over somethin stupid.”
Your chest tightened at that, your voice softer when you spoke. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
That question had been sitting there, unanswered, since the moment you left.
He didn’t respond right away. When he did, his voice was low, honest in a way that didn’t try to dress itself up.
“’Cause I thought I had more time.”
That landed heavier than anything else.
You closed your eyes briefly, swallowing past the tightness in your throat. It would’ve been easier if he’d said something wrong again. Easier to stay mad. But this, this felt real.
“I ain’t askin you to just come back,” he added after a moment. “I know it don’t work like that.”
You stayed quiet, listening.
“But I miss you,” he said, simple, steady. “I miss you bein around. Talkin. Even when you on my ass about shit.”
A small breath left you, almost a laugh, but not quite.
“I keep pickin up my phone like you still gon’ text me somethin random,” he went on, softer now. “Like nothin changed.”
You looked down at your screen, thumb brushing the edge of it.
“I don’t know if we can fix it,” you said carefully.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I know.”
There was a pause, longer this time, but it didn’t feel like distance. It felt like something fragile, something forming instead of breaking.
“But…” you started, your voice quieter now.
He didn’t interrupt. Didn’t rush you.
“But I’m still here.”
He let that sit for a second, like he didn’t want to push it, didn’t want to mess up something small but important.
“Yeah,” he said finally, just as soft. “I’m here too.”
And for the first time since that night, the silence between you didn’t feel like something final. It felt like space, uncertain, slow, but still open.
———————–——————————————
man i miss him:( pls let me know what i should write about, my requests are open!
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The night was supposed to be perfect. Chinese take-out boxes stacked on the counter, the smell of cookies in the oven, her playlist playing in the background while she danced barefoot across the kitchen tile.
She was laughing until she noticed Fez had gone quiet, the glow of her phone lighting his face.
“ Who’s Isaiah?” he asked, voice low.
She turned, wiping her hands on a towel. “Fez, please don’t start…”
“He’s sendin you heart eyes, talkin about you lookin fine. What’s that about?”
She stepped closer, the hurt already rising. “You can check the messages, I never even answered him.”
“Still looks like you lettin’ him.”
“I’m not lettin’ anything, Fez. He’s just some guy from the team. You really think I’d play you like that?”
The air between them went tight, music still playing from her phone, the cookies burning just a little behind her. He dropped the phone on the counter, the sound sharp in the soft kitchen. “Then why he feel like he can talk to you like that, huh?”
Her voice cracked. “Because some guys don’t care if a girl’s taken, Fez! You think that’s on me?”
The heat in the room wasn’t just from the oven anymore. They stood inches apart, words tumbling faster than either of them could take back.
He muttered, “You been sayin you were busy. I thought maybe—”
“Busy? You mean when I went to that early college open house? Because I’m tryin’ to get ahead, Fez! I told you that!”
He stared at her, jaw tight. The playlist skipped to another song, something soft and slow that made the silence heavier. “I don’t know what to think right now,” he said finally.
That line cut deeper than shouting ever could. She swallowed hard, blinking fast. “Then don’t. Just go.”
He hesitated only a second, eyes flicking from her face to the cookies still waiting on the tray. Then he grabbed his keys and left.
The door clicked shut, leaving her in the dim light and the smell of something sweet going bitter.
She still baked the cookies. Still ate one, warm and falling apart, while tears blurred her vision. The couch setup, the blankets, the movies they’d planned all of it looked staged for a version of them that doesn’t exist anymore.
She cleaned up the crumbs, turned off the lights, and crawled into bed where the quiet felt like punishment. The next morning she looked almost put together.
Wearing an off the shoulder camouflage sweatshirt in a light neutral pale grey, The neckline is wide, worn pulled down on one side to expose a shoulder. For the bottoms she's wearing a pair of high waisted shorts in a soft pastel pink.
She has on white socks paired with sandals, hair pulled back in a slick back high ponytail. Her purse hanging on her shoulder as she has her phone on her hand. The kind of effortless look that fooled everyone except the people who knew her.
Elias noticed first, tall enough to spot her across the hallway crowd. He caught up to her near the vending machines. “Yo. You good? You been ghostin’ the team.”
She shrugged, eyes on the keypad. “Just needed space.”
He didn’t buy it. “This about Fez?”
That broke the wall she’d been holding up. She told him about the messages, the argument, the way Fez didn’t believe her. Elias listened quietly, jaw clenching more with every word. When she finished, he said,
“You ain’t gotta defend yourself to nobody who don’t trust you, well I hope it works it over your end”
She gave a weak laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess that’s done now.”
By the next passing period, he’d had enough of seeing Isaiah grin like nothing happened. He cornered him by the lockers. “You knew she was taken,” he said, voice low. Isaiah just smirked. “She ain’t now, is she?”
That was it. Voices rose, a shove, and then the hallway exploded in noise. Elias having Isaiah on the ground as he punched his face leaving him with a bruised lip and black eye. Security rushed in before it could go too far, but phones were already recording, whispers already flying.
She didn’t hear about it right away. She was in class, trying to focus on equations that didn’t make sense anymore, when people started murmuring and passing around a video. She didn’t even have to look to know. Her stomach dropped anyway.
After dismissal , she just wanted quiet. But she remembered she is the football manger which means being there during practice , games, that sucks right now. Feeling a vibration her phone send she opened the football group chat.
The coach asking for some stuff to restock, giving the message a thumbs up emoji. Placing her book bag next to the empty seat beside her. Beginning to drive to the store. Her white Highlander still smelled faintly of vanilla. The radio played low, a song that used to remind her of Fez.
Inside the bright aisles, she moved fast. Powder, snacks, checkout. Then she froze halfway through a glance at the next register.
Fez with Ashtray.
Her heart jumped. She didn’t move closer, didn’t speak. Just finished paying, eyes on the counter. Fez didn’t say anything either, but he looked really looked taking in the outfit, the soft sweater, the sandals, the way she still managed to look like sunlight even when she was hurting.
When she walked out, he stayed where he was, jaw set, something heavy in his chest. She never turned around, never saw the way his hand tightened on the strap of the bag he was carrying.
Outside, the air was cool. She loaded the Gatorade into the car, sat behind the wheel, and took one long, shaky breath before starting the engine.
The song on the radio changed again something slow, something that felt like an ending and she pulled out of the lot without looking back.
Fez watched the taillights fade, the ache settling deeper than before.
Neither of them said a word, but both felt the same thing: maybe this wasn’t the end, not yet, but for now it hurt like it was:(
