Chapter Text
POV: ELLIOTT
Elliott dropped his head on the desk with a low groan, crumpling the mostly blank paper in his fist. His ginger hair fell around him like it, too, was heavily exhausted. He had set deadlines for himself, trying to organise everything. But he had missed every single one because he was still stuck at damn square one: planning.
Papers full of angrily scribbled out titles lay all around him like a moat around a castle. "The Day Train to Nowhere", scribbled out in favour of "A Halfway Decent Latte", only to be met with the same fate and replaced by violent lettering spelling out "Gay Idiot Can't Write to Save His Own Life". He thought that a vague title would give him inspiration for a romance novel. Nope. Not in the slightest. He was stuck, and even more now that all of his ideas were what he thought of as garbage.
"Maybe I'm going about this in the wrong way," Elliott exclaimed to himself, finally having a burst of inspiration. He shot up from his seat like a rocket and began to pace, speaking madly to himself. "Yes, yes, forget romance. What we need is a good mystery novel. No, no, not murder mystery; that's too unoriginal. Let's see, let's see. Hmm... yes! Set in the cold war, and there's a Soviet submarine acting suspiciously, and an American government worker must figure out why, and the submarine is really trying to defect to the Americans! Yes, genius! You're a genius, Elliott! And we'll call it... The Hunt for... Red October!"
He then froze in dismay and turned to his bookshelf, seeing that the title had already been written.
"Good God!" he cried out to himself, putting his hands to his forehead in anguish. "Curse you, Tom Clancy!"
There was a knock at his cabin door and he opened it feverishly.
It was Leah. She retracted at the sudden violent flinging open of the door and stared at her disheveled friend. "Elliott... when was the last time you slept?"
Elliott shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his forehead simultaneously. "I don't know."
"If you don't know, it's been too long," Leah replied, folding her arms. "What's with the whole... aggressive thing? You seem deranged. Like a lunatic. It's not a good look for you, man. I mean, living alone in an isolated cabin on the beach, pacing and talking to yourself and being all twitchy and everything."
"Mmhm," Elliott replied, nodding his head, though he tuned out what she said after "aggressive thing". He blinked his green eyes slowly. "I'm tired, and frustrated. And I'm too angry at myself to sleep."
"What's got you down?"
Elliott pulled up a fistful of papers full of scribbles. "I can't think of anything."
Leah raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"
"Yes, anything," Elliott sighed. "Absolutely nothing. Every idea is have is garbage."
"Don't say that," Leah said kindly, shoving her hands in her pockets.
"But it's true, Leah!" Elliott protested, shoving a paper towards Leah. She reacted quickly, scrambling to catch and read it.
"'Rainy Days Full of Regret'," Leah read through the scribbles. "Elliott, this isn't half bad."
Elliott groaned and leaned on the doorframe. "It's terrible."
"You're beating yourself up," Leah said, handing him the paper back. "But I won't fight you on this."
Elliott took the paper back and sighed again, looking back at the stacks of abandoned papers.
"You could use some fresh air. Why not a walk?"
Elliott turned back towards Leah. He hesitated, but nodded, looking at the clear blue sky over the vast ocean. It really was a nice day: not too hot, not too humid. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."
"Then after the walk, we could hang out at the saloon later on," Leah requested, which earned a nod from Elliott.
"Will you be walking with me?" Elliott asked, already ready to pull his boots on.
"Oh, no," Leah said, shaking her head. "I have too much work to do."
Elliott nodded in understanding and began to pull his hair up into a loose ponytail.
"Anyways, I just wanted to check in on you. You haven't been out of your decrepit-"
"Leah..."
"Sorry. Homey cabin in days."
Elliott stretched and cracked his spine, a testament to how long he had been sitting at his table. "Well, thank you for your consideration."
Leah nodded. "Well, have fun on your walk."
"I will," Elliott replied.