DISCLAIMER: I do not own Mr. Robot or the characters from Mr. Robot. I am simply using them for my enjoyment and that of other readers. I am not making any profit from these stories or characters. Please do not sue me. Thank you.
For as long as he can remember, the ritual has been the same. Whenever one of Angela's boyfriends has done something stupid – which is often – they both climb into Elliot's bed and sleep butt to butt, never turning around. They wake up in the morning and have breakfast in companionable silence until the boyfriend in question finally texts Angela and she runs back into his apologetic arms.
Elliot has never let on how desperately he wants to change this ritual. For years now he has wished he could pull her to him, gently sliding off every piece of clothing and showing her how much more she deserves than the deadbeat men she accepts into her life.
This night has been no different. She catches the boyfriend of the hour sexting with another woman and runs over to Elliot's apartment in tears, using his hoodie as a tissue as he gently pats her on the back. As midnight approaches, they wordlessly go to their sides of the bed, turn down the sheets and slide in next to each other. Elliot can hear her breathing as the minutes tick by and he knows she isn't asleep.
Communication is key, Elliot.
He gently slides from one side onto his other side, staring at Angela's back. For one moment he allows himself the hope that she is lying awake, having the very same thoughts. He opens his mouth, wishing he could give her poetry but knowing that he cannot.
Turn around.