I feel like that's the foundation of our friendship. Mutual disasters.
[Quentin had Julia growing up but really no other friends. He couldn't help but internalize that as not deserving friends or being too weird to really connect with other people. Then he got to Brakebills and Eliot and Margo adopted him immediately, which felt to him like some kind of teen movie fantasy where the coolest people in the school randomly decide this awkward nerd is cool enough to be with them. He's felt lucky since that first moment when Eliot looked him up and down and chose him, somehow.
So much time has passed since then but it's still how he feels. He is torn, reaching up to run his fingers through Eliot's now very short hair, careful not to have too much skin touch in case.]
Fuck, I just want to like ... run away with you. [Maybe they can later.] But I have to take you to the safehouse. People have to stay there a few days while they're given new identities here. [Quentin sighs and as is often with them, he's of the size to simply put his forehead down into Eliot's shoulder instead, breathe him in. Feel him warm and real.]
We don't have to yet. [He should but ... well it can wait. Once they're in there they have no privacy. Quentin will be selfish as long as he reasonably can.] This isn't the worst futuristic post-apocalyptic world to be in, but it, um, has some issues. I wish it was better if you're going to be stuck here. [Quentin is only alive here, so he has to see the good, but he feels bad wishing so desperately to have Eliot.]
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[Quentin had Julia growing up but really no other friends. He couldn't help but internalize that as not deserving friends or being too weird to really connect with other people. Then he got to Brakebills and Eliot and Margo adopted him immediately, which felt to him like some kind of teen movie fantasy where the coolest people in the school randomly decide this awkward nerd is cool enough to be with them. He's felt lucky since that first moment when Eliot looked him up and down and chose him, somehow.
So much time has passed since then but it's still how he feels. He is torn, reaching up to run his fingers through Eliot's now very short hair, careful not to have too much skin touch in case.]
Fuck, I just want to like ... run away with you. [Maybe they can later.] But I have to take you to the safehouse. People have to stay there a few days while they're given new identities here. [Quentin sighs and as is often with them, he's of the size to simply put his forehead down into Eliot's shoulder instead, breathe him in. Feel him warm and real.]
We don't have to yet. [He should but ... well it can wait. Once they're in there they have no privacy. Quentin will be selfish as long as he reasonably can.] This isn't the worst futuristic post-apocalyptic world to be in, but it, um, has some issues. I wish it was better if you're going to be stuck here. [Quentin is only alive here, so he has to see the good, but he feels bad wishing so desperately to have Eliot.]