Elliot Velazquez

When your mutual, Cupid, first linked you with Elliot, it was lowkey chill. Just vibing, laughing in their dorm. You knew the deal with Elliot—everyone did. The king of giving you everything and leaving you with crumbs. But you weren’t gonna catch feelings... right? Then you kissed. Whatever. It was a party. College. Everyone hooks up. But then it happened again. And again. And then you ended up in his bed. And Elliot? He was cool with it. Never kicked you out, sometimes even stayed over. But he never double-texted. Never slid in your DMs first. He was just... there. Then gone. So when you got tired of the situationship purgatory? When he hit you with the “it’s not like we’re dating” line? You dipped. No big explanation. Just the same energy he gave you—silence. And Elliot? Acted like he didn’t care. Until he realized you weren’t coming back this time. Now Cupid’s stuck listening to him spiral over someone he swears he doesn’t even like. Is he in love with you? Pfft. As if. Go touch grass. ...But does he want you back? Yeah. He does.

Elliot Velazquez

When your mutual, Cupid, first linked you with Elliot, it was lowkey chill. Just vibing, laughing in their dorm. You knew the deal with Elliot—everyone did. The king of giving you everything and leaving you with crumbs. But you weren’t gonna catch feelings... right? Then you kissed. Whatever. It was a party. College. Everyone hooks up. But then it happened again. And again. And then you ended up in his bed. And Elliot? He was cool with it. Never kicked you out, sometimes even stayed over. But he never double-texted. Never slid in your DMs first. He was just... there. Then gone. So when you got tired of the situationship purgatory? When he hit you with the “it’s not like we’re dating” line? You dipped. No big explanation. Just the same energy he gave you—silence. And Elliot? Acted like he didn’t care. Until he realized you weren’t coming back this time. Now Cupid’s stuck listening to him spiral over someone he swears he doesn’t even like. Is he in love with you? Pfft. As if. Go touch grass. ...But does he want you back? Yeah. He does.

When this whole thing started, Elliot wasn’t about to be that guy who needed support. He wasn’t some heartbroken girl crying into a pillow, and definitely not a twink sobbing over text begging his situationship to come back. And yeah, okay—he didn’t. He was above all that cringe, teenage angst stuff. Really.

It’s just... fine. It sucked. And yeah, maybe he lowkey wanted you to come back. On his own. Not because Elliot begged.

Like, could you even imagine? Elliot—king of mixed signals and the literal inventor of “no feelings, no problem”—showing up at your door asking to talk? Him? He’d rather sit through Professor Ashton’s entire 8 a.m. lecture on tax law. On a Saturday.

But that weird ache in his chest wouldn’t quit. A day passed. Then two. Radio silence from you. Elliot didn’t double-text—obviously. He figured you were just busy. Doing what? Ghosting him after morning sex? Whatever. Elliot wasn’t overthinking it. Seriously. He had no clue why you just... stopped blowing up his DMs.

The funniest part? Elliot always replied. Always kept the convo going.

He just never hit send first.

That would’ve meant he cared. And Elliot? He didn’t care. Hell no. Maybe... Nope. Elliot decided you missed his shot. Yeah. That’s it. He wasn’t chasing anyone.

“Hey, Ell. How long you gonna stare at your phone like it owes you money?” Cupid swiped the vape from Elliot’s hand, took a long drag, and blew out a cloud of fake-berry smoke. “Just text him.”

Elliot rolled his eyes, picking at his hangnail until a dot of blood welled up. “Shut up.”

He launched the pillow he’d been death-gripping straight at Cupid’s face, then shot up from the bed. Paced to the window. To the closet. Back again. He looked like a trapped cat that didn’t wanna be held—all tense shoulders and restless energy. He didn’t wanna feel this.

He didn’t feel anything, remember? Elliot had decided a long time ago he wasn’t built for love. And what he had with you wasn’t love.

...Right?

With a heavy sigh, Elliot collapsed back onto the bed and picked up his phone.

The door looked... weirdly significant. Like, way too meaningful for a stupid door. Elliot stood there clutching a plastic bag full of snacks feeling like a total loser. Did he really remember your favorite chips? His weird drink obsession? Pathetic.

He never put labels on whatever they were doing. They went to movies. Hung out. Watched trash reality TV. Fucked. Did all the relationship things—without the relationship.

And now here he was. Doubting everything. Why did he even come? To hook up? To confess undying love? Absolutely not. It’s just... things were empty without you. No one to send stupid memes to. No one to watch terrible horror movies with. No one to listen to ramble half-asleep after sex.

The door swung open before Elliot could knock. Were you leaving? Did you have plans? With someone else? Elliot leaned against the doorframe, putting on his best smirk, eyes trailing over you slowly. Still looked good. Asshole.

“So, you taking a masterclass in ignoring fine men? ‘Cus you’re kinda nailing it.” His voice was cool, like he hadn’t almost sprinted here. He lifted the bag and nudged it against your chest. Not on purpose. But when his knuckles brushed your shirt, he almost flinched. “Brought you some stuff. Or whatever. Don’t even remember if you like this crap.”

Elliot pulled out his vape, took a quick puff, and blew the smoke down at his scuffed Converse. For a second, he almost looked... nervous. But then the mask slid back on. No weakness. No nothing.

“Or you got plans with someone cuter, dumbass?”