Elliot was falling apart, he could feel it in his bones, in his flesh. He woke up in the middle of the morning, around two o'clock am, and went outside, pulling on a blazer and hat before hurrying out into the freezing cold air. He wandered the streets of Diagon Alley, not even capable of feeling sorrow or grief anymore. He was numbed. Completely dead to the world.
He had gone gambling on Christmas, seeing as he had nothing to lose, really. And he had gotten lucky. Gotten a nice stack of money. He found that at every table was the same woman and soon he found himself in a long conversation with her. They were in sync, and Elliot had never been one to be overly sentimental... But on Christmas he had been alone until he had met her, and he could not help but want her.
When he woke up the next morning, she got dressed and left. He asked her to stay but when he came out of the shower, she was gone. He stared at the only thing she had left behind to remember her by, an earring, and decided it was not enough. He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. For some reason, he knew that he needed to find her.
He found her alright. And she took her earring and told him to get lost before her boyfriend showed up. He didn't know what to do, so he went and gambled, got rid of everything he had won until he had to get thrown out, he was so far in debt. Some guys who he had lost to chased him off, threw him around a bit, and kicked him while he was down. Through it all, it didn't matter. He could only picture the engagement ring on her finger. Funny, he hadn't remembered seeing it that night, had not seen it when she continually haunted his dreams.
Now, there was nothing, where before he had felt a continual ache, continual thumping of a heart fervently devoted to finding the one that had put it under a spell. He almost wondered if she slipped a love potion in his drink, it was so out of character for him to feel such a strong, passionate feeling for another human being, a race he did not even count himself apart of. He realized it really didn't matter what she had done. It had still happened. It still hurt.
Ever since, he had not been right. He had not sent Jack the letter he usually did for Christmas, had ignored her letters since. He did not unlock the door to Weasley's and he knew Jack would be pissed, but he could not bring himself to care about anything past the dull hollow abyss that was his entire being. He had given up, and he was not going to try with anything for awhile.
Elliot had never been one of those examples of the human race that were loved specimen, someone who had multitudes of friends and family. He had Jack who worried about him. Ever since he had joined the Order, their bond had broken. He got caught up in things, as had she. They were moving in opposite directions, and only she wanted to try and cling to the fondness they had for each other, when really, Elliot knew they would never go on any more adventures. She had been too fond of his father, he had hated his father too much. He knew there had been an awkward strain, and their absence was enough to make it snap.
He made his way to a skeezy bar in London that was still serving drinks and dishing out the cards and he got lucky before he had felt the need to vomit. The minor distraction in the bathroom as he lost the alcohol that had clearly been stored incorrectly was enough to make him want to leave the place while he was up. It was not much. Just enough to pay for lunch and dinner. For the day, he would eat.
He made his way back to Diagon Alley around noon, feeling the stubble that had gathered on his chin, stumbling slightly as he was buzzed. He walked into a small restaurant and sat at the bar, ordering a hamburger and a coke. No need for more alcohol right now. The buzz was enough to make him feel weirdly inhuman, and for now, that was bliss. He ate half of his burger before sighing, propping his elbows up on the bar and dropping his head into his hands. Oh boy, was he screwed up. He had really messed up this time.
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