#eliott russo. ── thread.

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eliott russo. ── (updated) tag dump.

eliott russo. ── thread. eliott russo. ── musings. eliott russo. ── mirror. eliott russo. ── character study.

eliott russo. ── featuring. faye eliott russo. ── featuring. marc eliott russo. ── featuring. dilan eliott russo. ── featuring. nate eliott russo. ── featuring. ximena

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*˖ ⊹ ────────  the  sound  of  sirens  in  the  distance  steal  the  dogs  attention  away  from  faye  and  he  takes  advantage  of  her  attentiveness  to  put  her  back  down.  "  one day i'll actually do it.  "  he  remarks  under his breath,  though  standing  back  up  he  does  run  a  hand  over  her  perked  up  ears.

whatever  irritability  the  cold  sank  into  eli's  bones  evaporates  quickly  ;  the  aura  of  casual  ease  she  carries  with  her  is  an  easy  reminder  of  why  he  is  dealing  with  the  weather.  it's  been  a  busy  winter.  opposing  work  schedules  and  unfinished  projects  always  seemed  to  be  in  the  way, and a weird piece of the puzzle of his quiet and rather uneventful life was missing.  despite  the  cold,  the  routine  of  quiet  roads  and  dim  street  lamps  was  a  welcome  respite  from  the  somewhat  lonely  winter.

they  have  always  been  close  enough  to  elicit  some  level  of  questioning,  but  over  the  past  few  admittedly  difficult  years,  that  dynamic  had  morphed  into  something  else.  whatever  lines  were  there for most of their friendship── ones they've both been respectfully skirting──  are  so  blurred  they  are  practically  non-existent, with unspoken  boundaries  only existing purely by  principal.  whatever  this  was,  eli  was  fairly  sure  it  was  pathetically  obvious  that  on  his  side  it  went  far  past  friendly  (  here he  was  standing  in  30  degree  weather  at  almost  one  in  the  morning, because they've been busy ),  and  yet  a  solid  wall  still  stopped him from taking any step that  might make  this  delicate  balance  vulnerable  to  crumbling.  after  all,  when  had  either  of  them  held  down  a  relationship  for  more  than  a  few  years  ? pretending not to hear the lilt in her voice was safer, he figured, then acknowledging it.

"  are  you  cold  ?  "  he  drops  his  gaze  to  his  hands,  tugging  on  the  fingers  of  his  gloves  to  slide  them  off.  it's  not  a  seamless  transition,  but  he's  well  practiced  in  smoothing  over  the  brief  hitches  in  conversation  when  it  takes  him  a  minute  to  catch  up.  "  the  wind  is  fucking  brutal.  here──  "  readjusting  princess'  leash  around  his  wrist,  he  holds  the  gloves  out  towards  her.  "  i  thought  the  freaky  little  rodent  said  spring  was  supposed  to  be  here  already.  " 

｡*˚:✧｡ the winter season brough about a heavy workload, even if it all had been months in the making. she always liked to get a head start on these things, something to have her busy at her sewing machine constantly. but it never mattered how prepared she was it always managed to pile up. back to back christmas and new year shows, the last minute costume fittings to make sure everything was perfect. choreography that had to be known like the back of her hand, which only added another layer to an already demanding routine.

as it all seemed to be winding down, faye could finally breathe a little easier once again. she relished the hustle and bustle of it all, the spotlight on her when she was on stage, or the joy of watching her designs come to life from backstage when another performer took the spotlight.

it all seemed a lot more worth it when she knew the man was outside waiting for her. as tired as she may have felt, a wave of energy washed over her once she heard his greeting "there ya are, peach. the highlight of my night" the heels of her shoe clicking against he pavement, practically skipping her way over to them "and there's my pretty girl" she coos to the dog that eli was trying his best to contain" leaning down to press a kiss into the top of the dogs head, lip print left in her signature shade "oh now you would do no such thing. but, i'd be interested if her daddy was part of that deal"

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*˖ ⊹     its  an  overused  story,  one  that  would  pop  up  in  one  of  those  " am  i  the  asshole because i stepped in when some jerk wouldn't leave this kid alone last night  "  reddit  posts  that  were  both  clickbait  and  ego  fuel  for  the  person  on  the  other  side  of  the  screen,  but  eli's  spent  years  trying  to  teach  himself  to  turn  the  other  cheek  and  mind  his  own  business  and he's still incapable of it.  of course, he  wants  to  pretend for the sake of his mom, his friends, his colleagues  that  he's  getting  better,  that  since  retiring  his  beat  up  gloves  he's  found  peace,  but it's  not  true.  he  can't  look  away  when  something's  happening,  not  because  he  wants  to  play  the  hero  when  some  guy  at  a  bus  stop  commits  the  crime  of  being  smaller  than  the  others  (  eli  would consider himself  anything  but  ).  violence  is  just  where  he's  most  comfortable.  it's  his  first  language,  an  addiction  that  eases  his  anxieties  and  a  part  of  himself  that  terrifies  him  to  his  core.  because of it he looks in the mirror and sees someone broken, unfixable,  and  at  the  same  time  it's  the  only  thing  that  makes  him  feel  useful.  he  can't  fight  in  the  ring  anymore  ──  the  punches  there are  well  aimed  and  too  dangerous for someone who could lose everything from one wrong hit to the head  ──  and  he's ashamed of the fact he misses it. but if  he  provokes  the  dimly  lit  streets  of  new  york  city  to  open  their  jaws and the chaos he craves so badly comes crawling out,  he  has  no  choice  but  to  defend  himself,  right  ?

one  drunk  man  armed  with  nothing  but  his  fists  doesn't  do  much  to  elliot  anymore,  luckily  ──   he's left with just  a  bloody  nose  and  a  split  lip  as punishment for being caught off guard.  his  focus  is  mostly  on  his  knuckles,  cracked  and  bleeding,  and  the  real  pain  is  in  his  thoughts,  where  the  guilt  lingers  after  the  adrenaline  rush  fades.  "  i  wasn't  looking  for  trouble,  "  he  confesses  with  faye,  an  almost  inaudible  whisper,  when  the  heavy  silence  in  the  small  kitchen  of  her  warmly  lit  apartment  becomes  too  much  for  him  to  handle.  he  shifts  uncomfortably in the hard kitchen chair,  his  shoulders  crawling  up  towards  his  ears  before  he  remembers  she's  trying  to  help  and  he  tilts  his  face  back  up  towards  her.  eli  squeezes  his  eyes  shut  so  he  doesn't  have  to  look  at  the  worry  he  knows  is  on  her  face,  and  he  swallows  hard.  "  i  tried  telling  him  to  just  get  lost  and  stop picking on that kid  but  he  swung  first  and  i...  ──  "  he  inhales  a  shaky  breath,  and  it's  unclear  if  he's  sharing  with  her  or  trying  to  convince  himself,  like  a  repenting  sinner  in  confessional,  looking  for  someone  to  offer  them  forgiveness.  "  ...──  i'm  sorry.  "  /  FAYE  (  @cherryflcvoured )