[PRP] About last night... (Oliver & Elliot)

[Melancholies]

The sunrise was pretry and he easy content enough to watch it roll in. His phone was silent and nearly dead, and he found himself staring at it in wait for some sort of text or message or anything. There was nothing. Shiloh and Jamie had likely made it home and passed out, he assumed.

Which sucked, because they walked him back to his apartment, but he lolly gagged walking in. Minutes ticked past. He was gathering his thoughts and what he should say to Elliot--if he had even noticed anything weird--and eventually he took his keys out to fumble with the door.

The key didn't match the lock.

"Uh..." he tried it again, tried it again, tried it again, tried all his keys in case he was crazy. None of them worked. He bit his lip.


saedusk
Text to: Idiot
Alright, so.
My phone's almost dead and I locked myself out.
Don't ask

 

[saedusk]

There were two things Elliot noticed when he woke up that morning: Chai was loud and the spot next to him was cold. In the sleepy haze of the-sun-hasn't-been-up-long-enough, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table, all the while under the assumption Oliver was probably in the bathroom. It was strange Chai was bothering him then and not poking her paws under the bathroom door, but he didn't think too much of it.

In the hallway, he nearly tripped over Nosey while she wound an awkward figure eight around his ankles. As he stumbled past the bathroom it was dark and empty. Maybe Oliver had been up longer than he'd thought.

The person who greeted him in the kitchen wasn't Oliver either, though, and wasn't a person at all if you wanted to get technical. Pascal lifted his head from the tile and looked oh so pleased for the company, his entire rear wagging as he stood. Elliot gave him a short, distracted pat and looked around. Where the hell had Oliver gone? As if on cue, his phone went off.

Melancholies

Text to: OLLIE ✨

Oh my I was just wondering where you got off to
I'll be right there!!

Except when he leashed Pascal for a quick potty trip and opened the door, no one was there.

Quote:

Text to: OLLIE ✨

Where did you go darling?

 

[Melancholies]

Ollie waited, and waited, and waited. The door never opened; hell he didn't even hear footsteps from within the house to give any clue that Elliot was even awake. Despite this, he was getting texts, and...


saedusk
Text to: Idiot

I'm... right here still.
In front of the house.
Our house.

He squinted indignantly, not in the mood.


Quote:
Text to: Idiot

Lovett st????
the condo????
the door please??????

 

[saedusk]

For once, Elliot wasn't trying to get the better of anyone. He wasn't trying to be a d**k. In fact, he legitimately had Oliver's best interests at heart. As if sensing his unease, Pascal whined. "There, there," he hushed the shepherd, fingers already poised over his phone for a response when Lovett flashed before his eyes.

Melancholies

Text to: OLLIE ✨

Oliver
We haven't lived there in
Honestly I don't even remember how long
How did you manage to get over there??

 

[Melancholies]

The look on Oliver's face was priceless. Anyone looking would see one of utter shock, but internally all he could feel was mute panic. Alright, be calm, be calm, this was fine. Elliot was probably ******** with him, because that seemed like something Elliot would do, right?


saedusk
Text to: Idiot

youre ******** with me
i know youre ******** with me
elliot labelle i swear to ******** god

He paced around on the porch, worrying his hands together. Like a mental slap, the weird feeling from before hit him square in the face; the roughness, the grooves, the texture and sensation and overwhelming sensitivity of his hands flooded him with unwarranted stimuli.

He dropped his phone.

Trying his best to pick it up again with his palms, he found himself shaking and swearing and cursing and muttering a whole slew of obscenities under his breath.


saedusk
Text to: Idiot

well where the ******** do we live then
the taj mahal?????

 

[saedusk]

Melancholies

Text to: OLLIE ✨

Not at all
I was actually looking forward to a nice morning walk with you and Pascal

When he didn't get a response right away, Elliot felt a vague tickle of worry. It made no sense why Oliver was all the way at their old condo, anyway. It's not like the walk was a particularly easy one and the car was still parked in its usual spot outside the building.

Quote:

Text to: OLLIE ✨

Are you there??

Ah, his phone buzzed again. There he was. It didn't totally banish the worry, though. What in the world had happened in the span of a literal night. Oliver was acting so strange and crabby.

Quote:

Text to: OLLIE ✨

Definitely not the Taj Mahal
Still a good 15 minute drive from the old condo though
I'll come pick you up alright?

 

[Melancholies]

saedusk
Text to: Idiot

i
yeah
alright
thanks

Oliver sighed heavily as he made his way back to the sidewalk. Didn't make any sense to remain on the porch of some house that he apparently didn't live in, anyway, so he planted his a** on the curb and tried to ignore the disgusting sensations moving through his palms.

Ugh.

"Ugh," He ughed out loud to nothing in particular as he picked at the scab on his forehead. At least his head injury wasn't gushing blood anymore and he was mostly clean sans the occasional dry patch on his shirt. He did his best to rub it off.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

It wouldn't take much more than fifteen minutes on the dot for the car to pull up. Elliot hadn't even bothered to go back inside, he just ushered Pascal—who was excited for the ride, oh boy—into the backseat and took off.

At first glance nothing would seem different. The car was the same, expensive, but paid off well before the fall out with his parents. From a distance it was the same old Eli behind the wheel, too, hair hanging loose about his shoulders, still blonde, still green-eyed. Once he stepped out of the car and drew closer, the differences became that slightest touch more apparent.

His face was softer and his eyes looked more tired than they'd ever looked before. Where he once wouldn't leave the house without dressing his best, it was obvious he hadn't bothered to change out of his pjs—light purple pants and a plain white shirt.

"You're really here," he said, sounding confused but relieved. "What happened, did you sleepwalk? It's an awful long way."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

At least the car was the same. He looked up—looked equally exhausted, maybe more exhausted, probably more exhausted (but this too was normal)—and his brows knitted in confusion. They had been in a weird close-not-close relationship with one another, but Oliver would be lying if he didn't, like, know a lot of Elliot's little quirks. It wasn't that he spent hours agonizing over subtleties, but because Eli was the dramatic a*****e who made things about him always, and they were consequently hard to miss. Oliver was deeply bothered by what greeted him as a result.

"You could've gotten dressed first." He said slowly, like he was surprised that Elliot hadn't. He stood up, and like with Elliot, things would be similar but bizarrely different. His face was the same and his hair was still a short curly mess on top of his head, but his clothes were filthy (Shiloh and him never did find anything better in the eighties) and his forehead was still scabbed under his bangs. He looked like hell. He was hell. It was obvious at least that he hadn't sleptwalk, even though that was definitely a thing he had a tendency to do. He rubbed under his eye and immediately regretted it (his skin was way too soft but also rough and porous skin should never be porous)—"It's..." a long story? "I guess maybe I did, yeah. I dunno."

He shrugged and then sighed and then looked utterly exasperated. This wasn't an uncommon look for him, but it was more or less reserved for when finals were looming preciously over his shoulder, and not because he was sitting out on a curb at 7 o'clock in the ******** morning. "I just wanna go home."

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"Oh," said Eli, and rather absentmindedly. "I didn't even think about it. It's fine." Waving a hand to dismiss the worry over his wardrobe, he instead turned the attention back on Oliver. Mentally, at least, because before he could comment, he was promptly reminded it was time to go home. In the past, the Elliot this Ollie knew might've pressed for information in the snarky way he often did, but this morning would be different.

"Home, of course, alright." A hand found its way to the small of Ollie's back as he knelt to help him up. He wouldn't hide that his eyes lingered on the dirty clothes or the barely visible injury even more so. In fact, he delicately brushed the hair from his forehead with a free hand, examining, but mentioning nothing beyond that.

"C'mon, let's go home. I'm sure Chai and Nosey will be happy to see you."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

It would be an understatement to say that Ollie was completely baffled, but he was grateful at the very least. Of all the things he didn't want to do right now, fending off pervasive questions from his roommate was at the top of the list. He stared up at Elliot when his hand graced his forehead.

What happened next was awkward, as he tried to open the passenger side car door with as little tactile ability as possible; every time he touched his fingertips to the door it was like ice on his teeth, way too slick, way too filthy because he swore he could feel the invisible dirt clinging to the handle. His hands kept slipping off of the mechanism with dull click, click, click sounds until he finally got it to open.

"O-Oh you brought... Pascal..." Pascal, who was way bigger than he remembered him being. He climbed into the seat carefully, his attempts at closing the door going a lot easier than they had been opening it. The seat belt was another creature entirely and he left himself unbuckled. Death could take him, it'd be fine. His head immediately thunked against the window with exhaustion.

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Lips pursed into a thin line, it took everything in Elliot not to open the door for him. Something said it wouldn't help, so after a failed attempt or two or three, he retreated and went to his own side, loitering with the door only slightly cracked until Oliver managed to make it inside.

"I brought him with me when I got your first message," he said like it was nothing, like Pascal was his right arm and having him around was both normal and pleasant. On cue, Pascal nosed up between the seats, sniffling wildly at Ollie, who didn't smell quite right to his sensitive nose. He got rambunctious about it, whimpery, and Eli had to push him back.

"Pascal, stop it," he scolded, and with another small whine he got what he wanted. Pascal retreated, did an awkward, small donut, and curled up on the seat.

"Energetic as ever," Eli commented, reaching carefully around Oliver to snag and buckle his seatbelt. He hadn't helped with the door, but he couldn't stop the compulsion to do this much. "You know how he is."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Oliver gave Pascal a sympathetic look. He knew that he knew that he knew, and he mouthed out a quick sorry despite the dog being undeniably unable to understand. "Yeah, course—oh uh, thanks..." He looked down at the clicked in seatbelt buckle, and then went back to smearing his cheek on the car window.

"I didn't mean to sound snappish." He blurted out without thinking; Elliot would write it off, probably, like he always did. Chalk it up to mental hysteria or whatever the hell he rambled on about on a daily basis, "It was a long morning."

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

From the backseat, Pascal lifted his head, short and forlorn, before setting it back down. He couldn't understand and that was all the reaction Oliver would get aside from the occasional light boof.

"Darling, you're fine," Eli responded as he started the car, looked in the mirror, and did a quick u-turn in the street to head back home. "You look exhausted." And honestly, he didn't understand what could've happened in the span of what had to be a few hours. They'd gone to bed together last night. It wasn't as if Oliver had been gone for weeks.

"So you..." he hesitated, eyes on the road, both hands on the steering wheel. He was obviously a bit tense; Eli rarely drove with more than one hand, causal and carefree. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"No." he snapped before he could catch himself, and then he fidgeted and looked at his hands and looked at his phone and then back to Pascal again, unable to keep his eyes trained on any one specific thing. "I mean... it's. Not really some thing I can talk about."

He swallowed. Relented.

"Maybe when we get home." His eyes finally slid shut after what felt like forever. "I'm tired. I'm so ******** tired."

saedusk