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"Nothing," he muttered. "I need my pills."
Ian's eyes crinkled with worry before he nodded once and disappeared again, going into his room to grab the prescription bottle off the nightstand. The alpha strode over, grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, and held out a small pill. Elias took it without looking at Ian, swallowing the pill and then forcing himself to drink every ounce of the water.
"Are you anxious?" Ian asked.
The couch dipped, groaning under the weight of the alpha. Elias said nothing, only shifted closer to press his shoulder into Ian's for the bare minimum of contact. Because of course he was. That was his constant state of being. Worrying over the past or the present or the future way more often than living in it.
"Yes," he answered, trying to be honest.
His doctor prescribed him anti-anxiety and depression meds a few years back once he noticed Elias' torn-up cuticles and under-eye bags the color of ripe plums. At first, he stubbornly refused their help, convinced that he could handle everything by himself with enough determination. But let's be real. Mental health doesn't work like that, so he tried to remember to take the pills regularly, even though it was a struggle.
They improved his overall condition. The desire to sleep the day away was minimal; he was eating more regularly and working out less. After he swore off alphas, he'd run ten miles every morning and lift weights for an hour each night, if only to get his thoughts to stop racing.
These days, his mind was at a slow crawl, which made focusing on the important things much easier.Ian wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. The vice around his heart shuddered and loosened. He looked up, mesmerized by the molten gold of Ian's gaze.
"Do you need anything else?"
Elias shook his head, blinking to himself while reaching for the remote. "Want to pull up a movie? We didn't get to watch one yesterday."
"I liked the activity we did instead."
Elias pushed the alpha away by shoving a hand into his face, cheeks reddening. "I'm sure you fucking did."
Soft and teasing, Ian's laughter echoed through the air. Elias couldn't help but smile as he knocked his shoulder into the alpha's, berating him, but it was half-hearted. Ian snatched the remote during his fit, scrolling through the streaming platform in search of an action film.
Elias snuggled deeper into the blankets and couch, leaning back and urging Ian to follow. He did, and the two of them were just about to start Death by Robots, some end-of-the-world bullshit, when the doorbell rang, echoing.
Ian's brows pulled together as he glanced down at Elias, wondering if he'd invited someone over. He shrugged, then quickly stood up before Ian could even react, adjusting his clothes to make sure nothing slipped out. All the way out of the room, he could sense Ian's eyes following him, sending a thrill down his spine.
Giddiness flowed through his chest past the panic, past the anxiety, and he let it. Immersing himself in that glorious sensation until his worry would inevitably drag him back underwater. With a deep breath and a soft smile, he yanked open the door without looking through the peephole, only to screech and slam it shut again right in an alpha's face.
"Eli? Who was it?"
He gulped, glancing between the door and the living room, trying not to give anything away. Out there wasn't just any alpha, it was fucking Dane! Elias' heartbeat went crazy, galloping like a sprinting horse as he contemplated his next move. If he didn't respond soon, Ian would come barreling around the corner to fulfill some weird need to save Elias from any situation that would harm him.
"Uh, it's a friend of mine. I'm going to step out for five minutes, okay?"
"You don't have friends. I would know. Who's really out there?"
He heard Ian move to stand and panicked.
"Y-you can stay here! I'm fine, really, I am. It'll only be a few minutes."
"But who is it?"
Ian poked his head around the doorframe of their living space, gaze full of suspicion. Elias wanted to scream, but resisted the urge as his eyes flitted between the door and Ian's pinched expression.
Okay, deep breaths.
This is fine. Just tell him bland truths.
He won't suspect a thing.
"It's someone from work."
Good. That was good, right?
"On a Saturday? Can't it wait until the work week?"
