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“So, that’s the new guy you told me about?” Eliot inquired, unimpressed by the lonesome student.
Margo had talked so much about him, he had built a very particular picture of what he thought the guy would look like. Maybe a too idealised version, but now that he finally saw him in person, he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. He expected something. He couldn’t quite tell what, not something that could be seen but rather felt, that would make him more special than any other guy in Brakebills. Hard to do so in a college made for gifted people, but still.
His arm around Margo’s waist, Eliot rested his head against hers and took all the time he needed to detail the man sat in one of the corners of the library. He couldn’t deny that he had some charm, probably due to his childlike features that made him look as harmless as a toddler. He would be quite popular amongst the girls and boys of the campus by now, if it weren’t for the fact that he seemed to hide his face behind the curtain that was his hair. Such a pity, really, to see a man waste his beauty away because of his insecurities
“He’s not what I expected.”
“Are you saying that he isn’t cute?” his best friend complained, visibly offended.
“I never said such things.”
“Your tone was explicit enough, believe me.”
Eliot planted a kiss on top of her head and smirked to himself. It was true enough, he was disappointed because his fantasy didn’t fit reality, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to approach him nonetheless. Fresh meat on the campus was scarce, and who knew what would happen between him and that awkward looking piece of a man?
“I count on you, Margo, don’t make a move on him until I have done so,” the dark haired man winked as he moved away from her.
“Oh, so it’s a chasse gardée, then?” she raised an eyebrow at him and turned around, ready to leave the library, “Better hurry, you know I’m not the patient kind of woman.”
“Of course, darling.”
She left the place with a dismissive wave, boys eyeing her as she passed by. She would probably find someone to play with while he’d charm the newcomer, it would allow him more than a couple hours to have his way with him. He fixed the collar of his shirt, ran a hand through his messy curls and headed to the table the brunette was sitting at, with the brightest smile he could muster. He stopped in front of him from the other side of the table, but the guy was probably too immersed in his book to notice him considering his lack of reaction. Either that or he was ignoring him on purpose, and the latter wasn’t something he would allow.
Eliot leaned against the table, his hands close enough to the brunette’s own to brush them with the tip of his fingers. Which he did. It earned him a startle from the man, and he was more than happy for such a reaction, until he met the brunette’s eyes. Of all the faces he had expected, the “lost puppy” face wasn’t one he envisioned. It made him look hopelessly cute, the kind that made you want to hold him and protect him from all harm until the very end. An odd concept considering the fact that they hadn’t exchanged a single word - yet.
“Hello, handsome,” he teased.
“H-hi?”
He sounded so unsure of himself, it was almost criminal, if not endearing. Eliot didn’t miss how he fidgeted with one of the pages of his book from the corner of his eye; really bad sign. The anxious ones were always the hardest to convince. He had come across his fair share of nervous men in the past, had learned his way around them, but they were always so hesitant. And he was fairly sure he would have to use all of his charm to get him in his bed.
“I’ve never seen your face before, you’re new around here, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” the brunette averted his gaze.
Great, and he only answers in monosyllables too! Eliot refrained himself from sighing; it would probably be harder to get his way with him than he thought. He almost considered if sleeping with him would be worth anything, after all there were many other guys on the campus whom he hadn’t slept with yet, far easier guys to sleep with, but he knew that it would be way more satisfying to sleep with him. And who was he to deny such a challenge? Furthermore, if he gave up, he would have to hear Margo laugh at him for the rest of the week, and that surely wasn’t something he wanted to put up with. Determined, he straightened himself and extended his hand to the other man.
“My name’s Eliot Waugh, I’m majoring in folk literature,” he flashed him a smile, “and you?”
“I’m- my name is Quentin. Quentin Coldwater,” he quickly added. “I’m also majoring in folklore.”
It took a couple of seconds but Quentin did manage to shake his hand. It was as awkward as his behaviour, yet he found that he had more strength than he assumed the brunette had. That was good to know, for future instances. And him being an undergrad in the major he so happened to study as well promised to be useful more than once, it would open the door to private tutoring session in the future.
“Nice to meet you,” Quentin beamed.
Oh no… Eliot thought to himself, as his heart missed a beat, his smile almost overwhelming him, this guy is going to be my downfall…
“The feeling is mutual, Quentin,” Eliot smiled back.
Maybe he would have to tell Margo to find another prey for herself, because he was fairly sure he wasn’t going to give up on that one any time soon. Quite the contrary.