As soon as the door shut behind him, Eliot ran to his chamber. The sobs that course through him now seem ridiculous for the circumstances. Sure, he's been rejected before… everyone strikes out now and again—Even the Eliot Waugh—and he was never one to care about, well, anything, but Quentin was different—wasn't he? They had lived a life together… and he was just ready to throw it all away as soon as they got back to their own time?
He sits slowly onto his bed, the soft covers billowing out around him. He studies his crown in his hands, running his thumb up and down the deep, reddish-brown stones. Quentin was everything to him. The sun fucking rises and sets with him—or it did once, or it does now, or it did but not really and not now and-
"God DAMNIT!" Eliot screams, throwing his crown across the room. It lands with a dull thud, and something like finality. He can't have anything he wants, can he? All Eliot gets are hand-me-down dreams and a shit load of responsibility he never asked for. The walls of his room seem to close in on him, pushing down everything into some empty hole inside of himself.
A knock at the door tears him from his thoughts.
"Eliot?" asks Margo, slipping her head through the entryway, "what the fuck happened back there? Quentin is crumpled up on the floor like a kicked puppy and you're in here, what? Sulking?"
"It's nothing, Bambi," Eliot declares, standing and smiling from his cheeks in an effort to hide the tears that had begun to well near the corners of his eyes.
"Like Hell it's nothing," She protests, letting herself in. She stands firm, arms crossed and legs shoulder-width apart in a clear power stance. She's giving him the look that would usually have him confessing his deepest, darkest secrets by now. He can feel them climb up the back of his throat, ready to bubble out—but things were different now, weren't they? He was a father, he knew how to deal with demanding children.
He was a father once. He had known how to deal with demanding children.
Eliot closes his eyes and takes a single deep breath in, before setting his shoulders. "I said it was nothing," he states again, slowly and calmly. Margo's eyes flicker over him searchingly. Eliot knows she will find no hints of the secrets he's hiding. He can tell she's surprised at first—like she knows he's not quite the same Eliot he was just hours ago, but she doesn't speak to it.
He brushes past her, shoulders just barely touching.
"Don't we have a country to save and little rascal to deal with?" Eliot calls behind him. He barely listens for the click of Margo's heels before pushing further down the hall.
A.N: Okay guys, I know this chapter was super short, and I plan on writing more if you'll have me! So feel free to let me know what you think, leave a favorite or a reply, the positivity really keeps me going! Thanks so much- G.N.S