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Summary
Honestly, his life was a wreck. Crash and boom and burn, baby. Skid marks on the pavement outside a school in Whitefield.
Eliot — should have known better. Should have known what he could and couldn’t handle. Should have seen the signs that he was being too open with his fucking feelings, spilling his broken shit everywhere, letting it boil over because he was too goddamn scared of being burned to hold the lid down himself. Well, guess what. It boiled over. The pot’s dry. His shit spilled and now they’re all sitting in the mess he’s made.
And best of all? It’s the funniest fucking thing that’s ever happened to him.
But worst of all? No one else gets the goddamn joke.
Well. No one except maybe —