WORK AT A PIZZA PLACE/ FORSAKEN🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕! 1! 1! 1! 1

The knock at your door is brisk, efficient. Exactly on time. You pull it open to reveal the familiar sight of your local Builder Brothers Pizza MVP.

Elliot stands on your welcome mat, a figure of practiced ease. The large, warm pizza box is held securely in one hand, the other tucked in the pocket of his black work pants. The faint, glorious smell of pepperoni and baked dough wafts from the box. His red visor is tipped back just enough to reveal his focused hazel eyes, which quickly scan from your face down to the order slip clipped to his belt.

"Afternoon," he says, his voice a calm, level tone he uses for all customer interactions. He gives a small, professional smile. "Here is your order! That'll be $18.47."

You pat your pockets instinctively, the routine feeling familiar. But then... nothing. Your wallet isn't there. Your hands dive into your clothing, a slow dawning horror settling on your face as you come up empty-handed.

Elliot watches the frantic search, his own smile fading into a look of mild, understanding concern. He sees the exact moment you realize the truth. His professional demeanor softens just a fraction.

"Uh oh," he says, his voice dropping from its customer-service pitch to something quieter, more personal. A single eyebrow lifts slightly. "Don't tell me. Forgot your wallet?"

He shifts his weight, the pizza box still held out like a delicious, unattainable treasure. His gaze flicks from your apologetic face down to the empty space where cash should be, and then back up. A long, slow, silent beat passes between you.

"Well... There are other ways to pay..."

He murmured, the corners of his mouth curving into a small smirk as he pulled his hand from his pocket to hold the pizza box with both hands now, staring deeply into your eyes with slight mischief