He watches them go by, and buries his nose deeper in the chart in an effort not to glance. It doesn't work as he finds himself peering over the top as they walk together, holding hands and calling each other pet names.
He wishes he were her and he hates himself for it.
Really, he's the only one to blame here. He knew their story; he knew that he always went back to her eventually. At the end of the day there was only ever going to be her. It had been true since his first day as an intern, and it would be truth eternal.
He was a fool, and worse yet an old fool, being so cockstruck and lovestuck at his age. This sort of thing was for dumb teenagers, not for a man his age.
He'd destroyed his whole life for him, given up everything – only for him to go right back to her once more.
He hadn't even been given the chance to fight for this; a short letter saying that he didn't want to make a fuss, that they were adults and they should act like ones, that their relationship was too hard and so that had to mean they weren't made for one another, that she still loved him and he still loved her and that they were going to make it work this time – seriously.
He had wished him luck.
He walks around drowning in despair and darkness unnoticed while they walk about in the sunshine of their "true love".
He should've known he'd go back to Elliot.