#qweekdrabbles

—

Hades leaned back and eyed Eliot. “Well, this is new.”

“Care to elaborate on that?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before. Your soul—”

“You mean my shade?”

“No. I mean your soul. The whole thing. It’s a mirror image of his. It looks as though it’s been severed.”

Eliot felt the tug again, right in the center of his chest. The one he’d been feeling since Quentin landed in the Underworld. “What does that mean?”

—

“So in your timeline we never…”

Quentin looked to Eliot and shook his head. “Never.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable. I always wanted to kiss him, you... Whatever. The time was never right.”

The Quentin from timeline thirty-three wasn’t the Quentin that Eliot knew, but he had his face and eyes, and at least some of his memories. It made Eliot’s chest ache to think of the ones he didn’t have.

“You miss him,” Quentin said.

“So much. You have no idea.”

—

“Don’t ask why but I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” The words came out of Quentin’s mouth a string of jumbled syllables.

Eliot set down his drink. “Just pretend?”

“Yes. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Okay. Why?”

“I said don’t ask.”

“I’ll say yes if you tell me. Those are my conditions.”

“I told that first year who won’t leave me alone that I had a boyfriend. Now she’s insisting on meeting you. Him. She wants to meet him.”

Eliot smirked. “Oh, Q. Don’t worry. Daddy’s here to save the day.”

—

—

So Eliot didn’t want to talk about it. No big deal. He was right. The over-thinking was for the puzzle.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t do it all over again, no over-thinking required.

Quentin slipped his hand over Eliot’s where it was pressing a tile into place. “Hey.”

Eliot gave him a soft look. “I’m almost finished. Just a few more tiles.”

“Okay.” Quentin pulled his hand away. “Can I kiss you after?”

—

Eliot opened his eyes. It took a moment for the body at his bedside to come into focus.

Quentin smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey.” The word came out a gasp. His voice felt like it belonged to someone else.

Quentin took Eliot’s hand. “Thought we lost you there for a while.”

“Not gonna get rid of me that easily.” Eliot tried to smile, but the effort was instantly exhausting. “Where are the monsters?”

“Gone. Don’t worry. They’re never coming back.”

“Thank you. For everything. I missed you. So much, Q.”

—

The hedge said his name was Eliot. He looked Quentin over. “You’re from Brakebills.”

“How can you tell?” Quentin asked.

“You mean aside from the fact the book you’re asking for was stolen from there?”

“So you do have it.”

“Maybe. But I didn’t steal it.”

“I know. Brakebills wouldn’t let in a hedge. But my friend Julia—”

Eliot stepped nearer. The magic spilling from him was electric. “I’ll give it back. If…”

“No. Just give it back.”

“Have dinner with me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“But you’re—”

“A bottom feeder? I know.”