Deep Down Part 1

As the wind began to stir with growing intensity, so too did the turmoil within Elliot.

It was his free period which acted as a distressing moment of solitude so, he wandered aimlessly through the university garden all the while lost in his thoughts.

The chatter of students at the sidelines drifted around him—some engaged in lively conversations with their friends, others huddled together, making plans before parting ways, and a few lingered on the benches, unwrapping their food deliveries, preferring to eat within the campus walls rather than venture outside between their ongoing classes.

Yet, Elliot paid them no mind.

He moved through the garden as though he were the only one there while his thoughts drowned out the world around him.

With a weary sigh, Elliot leaned against the sturdy trunk of the huge tree and his gaze drifted toward the sky as his professor's words echoed in his mind. From high school to university, his academic record had been spotless—his studies, and his attendance, were all commendable. Yet, there had always been one lingering flaw, one weakness his professor never failed to point out: his reluctance to engage with others. Making friends, speaking up in class, participating—it was in these things that he faltered.

Two weeks had passed, yet there was no sign of him easing into the company of his peers. He remained as withdrawn as ever as a shadow among the crowd—like an introvert he was.

And now, as the wind rustled the leaves above him, he couldn't help but wonder if that part of him would ever change.

His professor had been blunt, laying out the reality before him with little room for argument.

Elliot needed to form friendships—not just for the sake of entertainment but because it was starting to affect his academic standing. He had been submitting his assignments alone, refusing to collaborate on group projects, which had cost him a ten-point deduction in each project, as per the rules set at the beginning of the semester. And now, the professor had given him an ultimatum. If he failed to make any friends by the end of the month, he would be forced to attend counseling sessions—something he utterly despised. Yet, the university had every right to intervene. With no guardian to oversee his well-being or guide him through the complexities of social interaction, they considered it their responsibility to ensure he didn't isolate himself completely.

After all, learning to navigate relationships was just as crucial a part of adulthood as academics.

Elliot had never been comfortable with the idea of making friends—not when it meant opening himself up to others and sharing struggles, he had no intention of voicing.

Friendship wasn't just about casual conversations or shared moments; it came with expectations, with concern, and that was something he couldn't afford. He knew there would be unexpected times when he wouldn't be able to hide it—when a sudden fit of coughing would leave specks of blood on his sleeve or when a nosebleed would strike out of nowhere, forcing him into explanations he wasn't willing to give. He had no desire to see the pity in their eyes, the same pity even Sam had stopped showing him after realizing how much it unsettled him.

Without friends other than Sam, he was free of those burdens. No worried glances, no forced reassurances, and no one to disappoint.

And maybe, just maybe, that was far easier.

Maybe he should just go along with the counseling his professor had suggested. Not because anything was truly wrong with him, but because it would be the easier choice. He could sit through the sessions in silence, offering nothing in response, or even twist the truth to mislead the counselor entirely. But… that wasn't him. He had never once deceived anyone in his life and never played such a role before.

And if he tried now, there was no doubt he would falter and his inexperience would betray him surely until he's laid bare.

Elliot resumed pacing in front of the tree with his thoughts tangled in a bubble of uncertainty. What was he supposed to do when he couldn't even reach Sam? His friend was swamped as he was caught up in a mess far beyond Elliot's problems. After all, Sam was on leave, dealing with the fallout of a brawl that had erupted between some high-profile customers at his café—an incident that had escalated to the point where the police had to step in. Broken tables, shattered windows—it was a disaster. Sam had his hands full, struggling to manage the situation with his parents, and even if Elliot somehow managed to get in touch with him, he couldn't just dump his own worries over his shoulders. Sam had enough to deal with, and the last thing Elliot wanted was to add to that weight.

Elliot let out another weary sigh with frustration tightening in his chest.

He came to an abrupt halt, pressing his hands against the rough bark of the tree before leaning forward, intending to knock his head against its solid surface—anything to shake off the stressing and relentless thoughts dragging him down. But just as he braced for the jolt of pain from the impact, his forehead met something entirely unexpected. Instead of unyielding bark, he felt the cool, soft touch of skin against his own.

Elliot blinked in confusion as his thoughts momentarily scattered.

As he lifted his head to see who had intercepted him, his surprise only deepened. Standing beside him, draped in an aura of quiet intensity, was Luna—clad entirely in black. A sleek, slim-fit high-neck hugged her frame, paired with equally fitted black jeans and matching sneakers. A long black coat rested over her shoulders, while its edges swayed slightly in the breeze. Her face remained unreadable with not a flicker of emotion betraying her thoughts. But it was her outstretched arm that caught his attention the most—her hand positioned just in time to stop his head from colliding with the tree.

"Uhm… wha—sorry… hi…" Elliot stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, and laced with nervous hesitation. 

Luna's sharp, narrowed eyes softened slightly at his flustered greeting before she let her arm drop to her side.

Her gaze remained steady as she studied him before speaking, "What are you doing here?" She asked, her tone calm yet inquisitive, "I didn't see you at lunch, so I thought you might have gone out to eat with your friends… but I guess that's not the case, is it?"

Elliot gave a hesitant nod, with his unease evident in the way his gaze dropped to his fingers fidgeting absently. His voice came out quieter than he intended, laced with discomfort as he finally answered, "I was just out here… clearing my head."

Luna hummed thoughtfully, taking note of the tension in Elliot's posture—the way unease clung to him and the way his thoughts seemingly weighed him down. Sensing his discomfort, she cleared her throat and broke the silence between them, "Since we have three hours free before our next accounting class," she said, her tone casual yet deliberate, "how about you join me for lunch? My treat."

Elliot had never imagined that a day would come when someone like Luna—the girl he had always considered the most popular and the hardest to approach—would ask him to join her for lunch. It felt almost surreal as if the universe had momentarily tilted in his favor. And yet, here he was, caught in a moment where the good odds were playing out before the inevitable bad ones could creep in.

"Uhm… I would love to, but… I'm not feeling well enough… to eat," Elliot replied hesitantly with his voice trailing off as if each word was carefully chosen. "I'm sorry, but can we… maybe have lunch… some other time?" His tone was polite, but there was an undeniable hesitance behind it, as though he was holding something back. 

Luna studied him and curiosity flickered in her mind. He had built walls around his heart—strong, unbreakable yet wavering, meant to keep others out but not impossible to crumble to dust.

He had turned her down, but she wasn't blind. Just one look at him, and she could see through his heart's guarded demeanor that was wavering enough to tell her the truth—he longed to be noticed… by her.

She knew the promise of having lunch next time was nothing more than a hollow excuse just like a polite deflection without any real intention behind it. There was no commitment in his words and no sincerity in the plan he had just proposed. 

Yet, despite his efforts to push her away, Luna could hear what he refused to say—his heart, loud and clear, calling out to her even as he desperately tried to silence it.

Luna hummed in thought with her gaze resting on him with an unusual softness sparking within the icy silver depths of her eyes—eyes that, no matter the circumstance, never failed to set him on edge.

There was something about the way she looked at him, something abstract yet piercing as if she could make him walk on the very ground she lays before him. 

Elliot didn't know what it was about her, but her presence was both chilling and intimidating, a force he wasn't sure he could handle. And yet, despite the overwhelming coldness she exuded, a part of him ached to be near her—to close the impossible distance between them and to be as close as fate would ever allow.

Luna extended her hand toward him with her movements smooth yet deliberate, as if offering him something far more significant than a simple gesture. Her voice carried a quiet intrigue as she asked, "Then… a penny for your thoughts?"

Elliot couldn't quite grasp the reason behind it, but as his eyes flickered between her outstretched hand and the silver depths of her gaze, his heart gave an unexpected flutter. He barely held her gaze for a few fleeting seconds before his attention dropped back to her hand with an unspoken hesitation lingering in the air. Warmth bloomed and crept up his cheeks, slowly spreading to the tips of his ears, and betraying the emotions he struggled to suppress.

He couldn't understand what was happening to him. The carefully constructed walls he had spent years fortifying—barriers meant to keep everyone at a distance—were beginning to crack. And all it took was a single, effortless gesture from her. 

It was as if she were water, relentless and unwavering, seeping through every fracture, determined to erode his defenses until nothing remained but the shattered remnants of his resistance, and swallowed entirely by her presence.

Either Elliot had lost his mind, or his heart had completely betrayed him—there was no other explanation. It was far too soon to be thinking this way, and too soon to let someone slip past the barriers he had so carefully maintained all this time. 

After all, he had never been in any position to welcome anything that might stabilize his uncertain, and wavering soul.

And yet, here he was, standing on the precipice of something he wasn't sure he could resist.

No matter how much time he allowed himself to wrestle with his inner turmoil, the answer remained elusive. He simply couldn't understand why, at such a crucial moment, the word 'no' refused to form on his lips. 

But deep down, it didn't feel like he 'couldn't' say it—rather, it felt as if he simply 'wasn't capable' of saying no when it came to the person standing before him.

Slowly, with hesitation threading every movement of his, Elliot placed his warm hand into hers.

The contrast was stark—her skin was cold, yet the gentle way she clasped his hand sent a wildfire through his chest. His heart pounded so loudly that the 'BADUM' echoed in his ears, making the heat in his face spread even further. 

His instinct urged him to pull away, to retreat before he made the mistake of getting too close—before he entangled himself in something he wasn't ready for. But just as the thought crossed his mind, Luna's grip tightened with smooth firmness and unwieldiness. Before he could question where she was taking him, and before he could summon the courage to resist, he found himself being led forward, following her God knows where.

As the wind swept through the air, ruffling their hair with its restless touch, Elliot found his gaze fixated on her back. Her long, wavy brunette locks danced freely, caught in the breeze, and flowing like untamed waves behind her.

She moved with purpose, never once hesitating while her grip remained steady as she led him forward—away from everything he had known and into something he couldn't yet name.