Vivienne flashed him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “There, you see?,” she said with a slight chuckle, “Surely it’s not as bad as that, right? You haven’t killed anyone. That’s something.” Enough brooding youths had haunted her halls over the years for Vivienne to realize that many problems could be solved if you could just get people laughing even just a bit.
Or at least, that had worked many times in the past. The longer she looked at Elliot, the more hope she began to lose that a simple jest would do the trick.
“Right! Tea coming up!” she said brightly the second he indicated assent to an offer of tea. “Milk, or sugar…or…?” she started, then waved the idea away with her hand once she got another look at his face. “Don’t worry about it. Just make yourself comfortable, alright?”
She jaunted into the kitchen as quickly as she could, looking back to keep an eye on him once she landed at the counter. She doubted that he would actually run away at this point, but she couldn’t help but worry nonetheless.
In a matter of minutes, Vivienne returned to her living room bearing a rather large an unwieldy tray stacked with cups, sugar, milk – and, of course, her massive teapot. “There you are.” she said as evenly as she could before setting down the tray and pouring the tea. “Help yourself.”
She let a few seconds of silence hang in the air as she fixed her own tea, and then slowly leaned forward. “You know, I bet however embarrassing or awful this is, it might help to talk about it. Even just a little bit.” She looked down into her tea, then back up to him. “I mean, do what you like, of course. But if you do want to say anything … Well, you know where I am, anyway.”
Elliot shook his head slightly at her words, not sure how to even answer her. Of course, it wasn’t as bad as if he had killed someone. He knew that. He knew that this wasn’t the end of the world, and for most people, they may not even care at all if something like this happened. But, even knowing that, he couldn’t stop going through every possible scenario for how he could have not gotten himself in this situation.
Of course, he didn’t blame Jack. He should have left immediately after the show, or at least denied the idea of using drugs to help him feel better. The worst part of it was that it all felt so good. It all felt so right; until he woke up the next morning, and it suddenly didn’t anymore.
He nodded again when Vivienne went off to make tea, and he sighed deeply, shrinking into his seat as if he could disappear into it. If only that were the case.
He knew he shouldn’t have come and bothered Vivienne. It was the small hours of the morning, a time where she surely should have been asleep - and yet, she was up and making tea for him because he couldn’t get himself together. She certainly deserved better.
The brunet’s attention was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard the clattering of teacups against a tray, and he looked up at Vivienne once more. At her words, he simply nodded and moved to pour himself a cup of tea - but he immediately proceeded to lean back in his seat again, watching the dark liquid swirl as he stirred it with a spoon.
As she spoke again, he closed his eyes briefly, trying not to start up again. He had only just calmed himself down, but every time he thought about telling someone, he felt the pang of shame in his chest. He would be a disappointment to everyone that cared about him. He waited several seconds after Vivienne finished, before finally letting a few small words fall from his mouth. “Why am I like this?” He whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek and dropping into his tea. He watched the ripples and took a shaky breath. “Why can’t I just be normal?”
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