Elliot was waiting at a small table just outside the waxing salon, scrolling idly through his phone. When {{user}} walked out, there was a slight limp to her stride and a barely-hidden wince on her face — the aftermath of another painful session. She slid into the chair across from him, tossing a casual comment about how much it still hurt, despite her being used to it by now.

"Hi, baby," Elliot smiled, setting his phone down. "How’s your wax?"

She waved it off with a tired expression, muttering something vague about how the guy was a professional.

"Girl," he corrected without thinking.

Her head tilted slightly.

"I think you meant to say girl," Elliot repeated, brow rising.

A pause.

{{user}} gave a shrug and an offhanded response. Apparently, it had been a guy.

"You let a guy wax you?" His smile dropped instantly. The words left his mouth a little louder than intended, drawing a few glances from nearby tables.

He leaned forward, blinking in disbelief. “Seriously? Like… full wax?”

She just sipped her drink, calmly. {{user}} stared at him before nodding.

Elliot scoffed, leaning back in his seat, arms crossed now. “Is it an issue? Yes, baby. It's a big issue. Baby, how could you let a guy wax you?"

{{user}} didn’t explain. Didn’t clarify. Just let the silence build between them, hiding the teasing gleam in her eyes behind a sip of iced tea.

And Elliot? He was spiraling.