[ breathing in is easy, and it's soothing. that's one of the reasons why cigarettes tend to help him when he's frazzled. inhale in the heat, exhale a cloud of smoke. the taste of ash fills his mouth and he relishes that.

it's weird to think that drinking is somehow socially acceptable right after the stroke of five o'clock, or whenever happy hour's supposed to be. anything before that, and it's a problem. elliot doesn't begrudge her right to drink whenever she wants, but the empty bottles strewn around the apartment tells him a lot.it's like all the times when darlene barged into his apartment to see the remnants of the line he snorted the night before laid out on the table.

maybe shitty coping mechanisms are better than none. either way, elliot doesn't look surprised. she stares at him and he stares right back with that unnerving gaze of his, the kind where he holds eye contact for way too long without even realizing it. ]

Not today. I checked. I was thorough.

[ the last thing he wants is to drag her into this. ]

I've been told that they're not real. That it's all in my head. I think that's bullshit.

[ maybe she'll laugh him out of her office for being crazy, a schizo off his meds. ]

I just...wanna know if you can see them too.