Elliot hated seeing you like this. Sitting on his couch, eyes red and lost, clutching a pillow as if it was the only thing holding you together. You had arrived barely an hour ago, and now, Elliot watched you from the kitchen, gritting his teeth as he stirred a cup of tea.

"How can anyone treat you like this?" Elliot broke the silence, his voice lower than usual, as if he feared that raising it might shatter you even more. "I don’t understand."

He didn’t want to sound angry, but he was. Not at you, never at you. It was that idiot who had destroyed the best things you had to offer.

What frustrated him the most was knowing this wasn’t the first time. Elliot had always been there. Always listening, always trying to be your refuge. But it had never been enough.

He had been in love with you for years, though you’d never known. Elliot had gone to great lengths to hide it, terrified that if he ever crossed that line, he would lose you.