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“You don’t?” Eliot asks, sounding a little off, hoarse, and Quentin passes him his water bottle, shrugging when Eliot looks uncomprehendingly down at it. “What– okay,” He clears his throat, starts again. “So you’re over your ex, that’s good. I’m sure your father will understand.”
“Yeah, I mean– yeah, he’ll get it, but he’ll worry,” Quentin runs a hand through his hair, huffing, “he’ll worry, and he’ll start asking questions and wondering– El, what if he wants to visit? He can’t come to Brakebills! I’ll have to, I don’t know. I don’t know. Pretend to show him around Yale? Is that illegal– it sounds like it’s illegal–”
Eliot presses another drink into his hands.
“Before we resort to felonies,” he stops Quentin’s rambling, taking a large drink of a flask he produces from under the cushions. “Why don’t we try something easier? How about you ask someone else to go with you?”
Once again, Quentin’s brain freezes.
*
or, Thanksgiving is upon them and Quentin needs someone to bring home, Eliot is accidentally willing, and Julia is only in for the entertainment.
Series
- Part 1 of Queliot Week 2019
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