DRIVE WEST

FIVE - Let It Sink In

Soundtrack for the chapter

My Boy by Billie Eilish

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Monday was sitting at Gideon's waiting room, just outside his office, waiting for their meeting to begin; her posture was perfect— years of classical piano lessons taught her that. She calmly typed away on the computer that sat on her lap.

Behind her, stood Feyre and Elliott, also waiting for the meeting to begin, staring at her; both of them with their arms crossed.

"She seems to be in a good mood today," Elliott stated to his partner, examining Monday from a safe distance.

Feyre examined with the same intensity, "I can't tell. Maybe she's just so angry that she's calm. You know?"

Elliott creased his forehead, "That makes no sense."

Feyre sighed, "You wouldn't understand. It's a woman thing."

Elliott, unfolded his arms and puffed out his chest: "I'm going in."

Feyre looked at him: half surprised, half worried for his life, fully impressed by the man's courage. "But you're so young. You've still got so much life ahead of you."

"Ha, ha." He smiled faintly at the joke.

Both looked over at Monday, who continued to work in silent innocence. For a split second Feyre wondered what Monday had that she didn't, like she had been quietly doing for years.

"Fine. Go ahead. What should I say to your mom when I meet her at your funeral?" Feyre teased once again.

He inhaled deeply, and started walking away from her, "Tell her the girl had the raging waters of the Pacific trapped inside her eyes and that this was only the least interesting thing about her." He looked back at her, "Mom will understand."

He marched towards her like Clark Kent to a telephone booth in midst of chaos. Feyre clenched her jaw and looked up at the heavens, unable to watch the scene unfold.

He stood up in front of Monday, "Good morning." She looked up at him and was about to reply, but he interrupted: "I want to take you out for coffee sometime. I know. I know you barely know who I am— but your presence takes my breath away and I thought I should do something about that."

"I'd love to get some coffee with you, Elliott."

He paused.

She stood out her hand to him asking for his phone and then gave it back having typed in her number.

He looked at his screen and dumbfoundedly smiled at the numbers in a bold black. "I gotta say... I'm surprised. Last night in the van I thought you and Apollo were... having a thing."

She looked down at the floor, "Uh— no. Apollo is definitely not my type." She laughed shortly, "That is so funny that you thought that. We have nothing in common." Her laughter grew.

He laughed with her, even though he didn't find it funny, "I guess you're doing your job really well, then!" He leaned back and raised his arms. "Fooled me!"

She responded by, you guessed it, laughing even more. "That sure is funny!" Her eyes teared up and her chuckles grew in pitch. "You thought Apollo and I—" She roared.

Confused, Elliott looked over his shoulder to Feyre, who mouthed to him, 'what the fuck did you say?'

He shrugged, not knowing what, indeed, the fuck he had said.