#being frustrated because your family fell apart and you're fifteen and incredibly short sighted

[superhousecat-once-again]

I’m back with more fic for @mindblindbard because I’m a sucker for the concept of Elliot and Sally being soft dorks and also because it’s too hot to do anything that isn’t laying in front of a fan typing away at my phone. 

This is where you and Sally always seem to end up during movie nights at her house. Her sitting on the actual couch, you sitting on the floor leaning back against it. Her enraptured with whichever mostly forgettable rom-com Netflix has released this month, you enraptured with how much black licorice you can eat before your tongue starts to feel numb. It’s comfortable. Safe. You’re not paying too much attention to the movie but you take it that whatever bland but moderately attractive couple you’re supposed to be invested in have done something sickeningly adorable by the way Sally sighs and pokes the back of your head with her foot to get your attention before asking, “Remind me again why we’re single?”

You twist your body so you can properly look up at Sally and prop your elbow up on the couch. “Well I’ve been told I’m dramatic, twisted, and not as funny as I think I am. Oh, and I’m constantly spewing noise from my brain which I’m sure doesn’t help.” You’re sure she can tell what you’re going to say next from the grin spreading slowly across your face, but that’s not going to stop you. “Nothing’s wrong with you though, except for your terrible choice in crushes”

She groans and attempts to whack you in the head with a throw pillow. “Shut up, I hate you, please get out of my house.” There isn’t any bite to her words though and you know her well enough to know that they’re just a bad attempt to distract you from her increasingly red face but all it really does is make you laugh and become more determined to tease her.

“So explain to me why you’re into Nick again? It’s cause he got the freckles isn’t it?” You sigh and press the back of your hand against your forehead, like a lady about to swoon in a period drama. “Stupid bastard took all the Ment powers and the cute freckles. It’s incredibly tragic.” It’s quite a performance. Maybe you should have become an actor instead of stubbornly trying to prove yourself as capable as the rest of your family. “And now I suppose he’ll take you too.” You could have swore you meant that to be melodramatic teasing as well, but instead your voice quivers with something closer to frustration.

Sally freezes in her windup of a second throw pillow and stares almost blankly at you. “Are you jealous?”

“No.” You answer too quickly for it to be taken as anything but defensive. “I mean, only like conceptually. Like of course once again Nick gets everything good in life. Meaning you, cause you’re great and also wow look at him not having to do anything yet still getting attention. And, just-“ Maybe if you babble fast enough she won’t notice you’re lying. It’s probably a vain attempt considering how Sally can feel your emotions, but it’s always worth a shot. Because it’s not really jealousy that’s gnawing at the base of your stomach. It’s fear. Because what happens if Nick actually figures out Sally is wonderful and they get together? And if they end up loving each other (which, gross), where’s that going to leave you? Who’s going to love you? And yes, you know that loving someone else doesn’t decrease the amount of love they can give you like it’s some finite resource to be used sparingly, but you also remember watching your dad drive away when you needed him most because his love for your mom was greater than his love for you. Who’s to say it won’t happen again?

You hadn’t realized you had trailed off, lost in your own thoughts until Sally flicks your nose. “You’re doing it again aren’t you?”

She’s slid down from the couch and is sitting cross-legged next to you, staring at you with a touch of concern. She’s watched your mind go off down depressing rabbit trails enough to know the signs.

“Am not.”

“Uh huh, you’re broadcasting so much anxiety right now I can practically taste it.”

One day it’d be nice to be able to lie your ass off. At least just once.

Sally leans closer to you, as if she’s going to tell you a secret. “You know I love you right?”

Well that’s not a secret. You’ve known that for years, but you nod a response.

“And I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

She flicks your nose again with a pout that makes you smile even as you roll your eyes.

“Fine yes, I know.”

“Then you shouldn’t worry,” Sally finally leans back with a bright smile, satisfied that her words have successfully soothed over your dark thoughts for now. “Besides Nick doesn’t like me anyways.”

You smirk and nudge her gently. “I mean, he doesn’t yet. Bet I could make him.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Elliot, and I mean this is the sweetest way possible, you are the least persuasive person on the face of the planet.”

“Rude,” you punctuate the statement by sticking out your tongue, to which Sally responds by gasping in mock offense, “And besides, I’m just gonna Pavlov him. It’ll be more effective.”

She sighs. “You know that’s what I really love about you, your upstanding moral code.”

“Don’t I know it.”

The two of you settle back into silence, while the movie continues to drone on towards its inevitable conclusion. It’s a good silence though. The kind that’s filled with comfort and reminds you there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Or no one else you’d rather be with. 

(Elliot does quickly warm up to the idea of Nick and Sally together. Partially because she loves them and wants them to be happy, partially because she does recognize her fears are mostly irrational, and partially because it’ll really streamline her teasing if she can target both of them at once)