Gah! I'm so sorry, Jassy! A lot of crappy stuff has been happening, so I've BEEN awful with my replies!
He'd made a career of not being sure of himself. All his life, Elliot bumbled around, attempting to do the right thing here and there, trying to be good. He lived with generous thoughts of his family members, his mother, father – grandfather; they were all the type of wolves he wanted to be like. But it had been done so many times before, he couldn't see how anything else would ever be expected. It seemed like a ritual. Follow the places his families had gone, try to achieve similar goals, be great like them. And he tried, God how he tried. But no one was there to tell him if he was going in the proper direction. The only one he did want to do right by was giving him nothing. Absolutely nothing. He was standing here, his arms full of things that would help her heal, make her better and she gave him nothing. He might as well have been holding his heart out to her. If he wanted to describe the angst. But all he wanted was a fucking smile! She could give him that, couldn't she? After all, he'd given her everything he had.
And just like that, he was angry. He had been from the beginning, really but now the anger was directed at her. It was something he never thought he'd felt before, because the only feeling he had for her was love. But right now it felt a little like hate. Elliot drew up to his full size, an impressive sight by all means – something that rarely happened. And for just a moment, he wasn't the friendly, bumbling do-gooder he always had been. He was pissed. He threw the water bag aside, glaring at her as it hit the wall, splattering its contents all over. No, you aren't okay, Kol. Damn it, you always say that and it isn't true! He growled furiously, clenching his claws, resisting the highly unusual urge to punch the wall, punch something. I'm so sick and fucking tired of you saying that! He leaned forward, eyes sweeping her delicate body, pausing on each and every wound, agony in their reddish depths. His gaze stopped at her feet and returned to her face, the male leaning closely, almost threatening. Look at yourself. He snarled quietly, eyes accusing. Don't you care at all? He could have been talking about her well being, but it was mostly about how he felt for her, and how little she seemed to care about him. Enough that she was reckless with herself, stupid. And if he lost her because of that? It would break him. So her stood there, glaring at her, furious eyes trying to break her for once. Just once. Let her see how it felt.
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