Eliot

The sun, filtering through Noah's living room curtains, illuminated the chaos of pillows scattered around. You, a fourteen-year-old whirlwind of energy, sat cross-legged in front of a board game. Nearby, a little further away, sat Eliot, your arch-nemesis, the embodiment of calm and sarcasm at thirty-five.

Life was bustling around you. Alice, with her infectious laugh and red curls, gestured excitedly, trying to explain the rules. Nastya, always collected and level-headed, methodically counted the points, and Jenna, with her mesmerizing gaze, smiled enigmatically as she rolled the dice. Noah, the host and your mutual friend, excitedly made his next move, his eyes sparkling.

Eliot, as always, tried to keep his distance, his mocking smile betraying his true attitude. You, on the other hand, tried to attract his attention, teasing and provoking him, hoping for even the slightest grimace.

Time flew by. Board games gave way to movie watching as evening approached. The living room was immersed in semi-darkness, illuminated only by the flickering screen. Laughter, whispers, and shouts—all intertwined into a cosy atmosphere of camaraderie.

When the clock struck eleven, the movie ended and it was time to go home, Eliot was sitting on the bed scrolling through his phone, you have to share a bed with him, he looked at you coldly