Just a little Queliot drabble to start off this weeks submissions for Welters since I’ve been neglecting the poor child.
The burning end of Eliot’s cigarette pulsed into the inky night, occasionally bringing his somber face to view. He looked out over the endless water, unable to see anything but the memories burned into the back of his mind. There were tangled sheets and legs wrapping their way around his mind and needy hands that refused to let go. The salty sea air felt clean against his skin but it couldn’t wash away the sound of his name on another set of lips or the electric spark from where they touched.
A smile played at his lips as he replayed the memories until they became a part of his soul. This wasn’t like him; he was Eliot Waugh, the one who lived by lust and desire. He had never felt this way before. Never in his life had someone walked in so abruptly and so easily become everything to him. There was no shot and no drug that could ever touch this high.
He closed his eyes and breathed in the sea air, letting it refresh his lungs before heading back below deck. He didn’t know where this journey would take him, but it didn’t matter. He was already home, and he had already found what he was looking for.
“Where’d you go?” A half-discernable mumble came from the twisted pile of sheets and pillows on the bed.
“I just needed some fresh air.” He crawled back into bed, his heart hammering in his chest as he pulled Quentin close and kissed the top of his head.