idk what i was doing i wrote this in class but assume its ur birthday or smth yea
He was so desperate to look for you.
All this panic… all because you had accidentally forgotten to tell him you’d be out for a few hours.
A pizza delivery boy like him shouldn’t have cared this much.
But Elliot did.
Shedletsky’s grin faltered as Elliot shoved past him—hard enough to make him stumble into the wall. His fingers twitched toward the doorframe, like he was debating whether to kick Elliot out before this became one of those annoying, dramatic detours. Too late. The delivery guy was already inside, standing dead-center in the room, breathing like he had just run through a storm.
“Is this about coupons?” Shedletsky tried, forcing the grin back onto his face. He rocked on his heels, arms loose.
“No, fatass!”
“Charming as ever,” Shed muttered, shutting the door.
He barely got the latch down before Elliot snapped:
“This is about them.”
“Oh brother.” Shed dragged a palm down his face. “Who’d you break into this time?”
Elliot stared dead at him. “I broke into their apartment.”
Shed blinked. “Okay? Normal. Totally healthy. Very legal behavior. And?”
“She wasn’t there, you fat fuck!”
“AMAZING,” Shed said loudly. “Every time you visit it’s verbal abuse. I love our friendship—really warms my heart. But anyways, that’s my problem because?”
Elliot’s voice shot up an octave. “BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHERE SHE IS—”
“I DO NOT,” Shed snapped. “Contrary to popular belief, Elliot, I am not a personal GPS.”
Elliot stormed out, slamming the door so hard Shedletsky’s framed image of himself fell off the wall.
“YOU’RE PAYING FOR THAT!” Shed yelled through the door.
“NO I’M NOT!” Elliot yelled back.
“YES YOU—”
The argument continued until Elliot was halfway down the street.
He stopped every few feet, grabbing the attention of anyone he could find.
“Have you seen my best friend?” His voice cracked around the words—frustration.
Guest 1337 shook their head.
Chance didn’t even look up. “No?”
Elliot kept going. He asked everyone. People he hated. People he barely knew. Anyone who might’ve seen you. But the answers kept coming back the same, every time.
No. No. Haven’t seen them. No idea. Sorry.
He had the flowers. He had the gift. It was supposed to be a good day. He was supposed to give you something special.
“HAVE YOU SEEN MY BEST FRIEND?! I’M TRYING TO GIVE THEM A PRESENT FOR A SPECIAL DAY AND I CAN’T FIND THEM AND I’M GOING INSANE!”
Silence.
Then—
“…Elliot?”
A calm, familiar voice.
He froze.
His eyes snapped open.
And there you were—standing right in front of him, a little confused, a little amused, and very much not missing.
“Elliot,” you said gently, “I was gone for like… one hour. I just went to get groceries.”
He stared at you. He stared at the crushed flowers. He stared at the gift bag that looked like it had been through a tussle.
Then, very quietly, he muttered:
“…I tried my best.”