Disgusting Little Deviant - The Delightful Tale of Elliot The Borrower

Post-Midnight-Snacking: Peaches and Temptation

Elliot stared at the screen of the phone propped up in front of him.

It was open to the facebook messenger, the white text on the friendly, blue strip at the top of the screen asking him if he was friends with Dan Brooke, and if so, would he like to send him a message.

It had been asking that for quite some time.

When Elliot wasn't busy uploading clips of other people masturbating, he earned his money by being a writer-for-hire, usually typing up those clickbait-y texts that many websites used to get you to come by and stare at their ads.
Being a writer, Elliot rarely had trouble composing messages that conveyed just the right thing and represented himself - the author - just the way he wanted to be seen.

He had been hard at work for several hours now.

So far, what he had come up with was:

"Hi".

That had been two hours ago.

He hadn't sent it yet.

Elliot banged his head down on his desk, moaning loudly into the wood in frustration.
His brain ached.
He really needed a pause.

And maybe a snack.

Yeah, a snack would be just the thing.

He checked the watch that hung up on the wall across the room.

Way past 1 am.

Well, at least everyone should be asleep right now, so he might as well go out. A bit of a foraging trip would hopefully help clear his head.
Plus, it would be nice to have a range of different choices available.

Well, what to get...

Crisps? Cookies? Chocolate?

Hmm now...
Wouldn't.., yes, wouldn't some fruit be nice...

Ah, now didn't... didn't Whatshisname... Dan... always have some?

That's right, he always bought these delicious looking pears.

Such coincidence, just what Elliot was craving! Pears!

Er, apples.
Dan bought apples.

Such coincidence, just the one thing Elliot was craving even more than pears!
Well, Elliot decided, he could really do with an orange.

So off he went.

***

Apartment 9a lay mostly dark, the curtains having been pulled closed over the large windows.

Elliot emerged on the soft carpet that covered the spacious, nicely furnished living area.

And while it generally tended to be clean enough that you could literally eat off the floor - meaning, there were usually bits of something edible to be found on there - it wasn't that much of a mess.

The floor's dish of the day was a half-eaten pizza served in an open cardboard box with crumbs of crisps on the side, and apparently, beer.
Lots and lots of beer.

Well, someone was due to wake up with a bit of a headache tomorrow, Elliot thought, raising an eyebrow at the mass of empty bottles on the small table and next to the couch.

He contemplated the floors generous offerings for a moment, but then politely declined.
After a short detour to check the sofa for inebriated corpses, and, finding it empty, Elliot made his way into the short hallway.