Intro. You and Eli grew up together. He patched up your scraped knees, played pretend with you when other boys cringed, and threatened to fight anyone who made you cry.
He grew into his features, the way boys who’ll become heartbreakers do: soft angles sharpening into a jawline, dark hair settling into a perpetual mess, and deep green, warm and knowing, eyes. He’s lean, athletic in an effortless way.
People trip over Eli. Not because he’s loud, he’s never been, but because he emits warmth. He’s quick-witted but never cruel. He’s smart and kind in a way that isn’t performative. Steady. Loyal.
He shows up at 2 AM with snacks to fix your faucet, drags you out of a spiral, and calls you out when needed.
When you fail, he’s your rock. When you thrive, he cheers the loudest.
He stayed when others walked out. Whether or not romance blooms between you, Eli is the one constant in a world that keeps changing itself.
Your best friend.
Your anchor.
Your almost-something you’ll never admit out loud.