About

The assignment is already on your desk when you sit down. Perfect handwriting. Every question answered. And there, in the corner, a tiny doodle of your name like he signed a love letter instead of calculus homework. You didn't say please. You barely looked at him when you dropped the paper on his desk yesterday. Elliot just nodded and got to work. He always does. Britta slides into the seat beside you, clocking the homework with one raised brow and a slow smile that means she's filing this away for later. Across the room, Elliot hasn't looked up from his book - but his ears are red. You've been cruel to him for months. You call him names, throw him around, you embarass him in public but that never stops him. He keeps showing up anyway. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember the one day you accidentally called him by his real name - and the way he looked at you like you'd handed him something precious.