Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Chapter 37 - "Beckingham Palace!"

The office smelled of cinnamon and the last traces of strong coffee. Elliot sat slouched on the couch, her legs stretched out on the coffee table and her ankles crossed. Her computer sat beside her on the tan leather cushion. A half finished chapter stared at her from the screen as the cursor blinked.

Beck, as usual, sat opposite her, his face a concentrated scowl. The sound of tapping keys mixed with the click of metal as Elliot played with a Slinky. She watched as it seesawed in her hands, her mind searching for the right words. Empty coffee cups sat on the table by her legs alongside a pink pastry box.

The typing stopped. Elliot's gaze flickered up to Beck as she kept the Slinky moving. He looked down at his phone. When the screen remained black, he went back to typing. His scowl deepened, taking on a new meaning. Elliot returned her focus to the Slinky and tried to ignore the taunting, blinking cursor.

Minutes ticked on, as the clock resigned itself to its constant state of always being on time. Beck stopped typing again and looked at his phone, receiving the same result as the last time. Elliot watched him, trying to read the thoughts beyond the scowl. He took up his work once more. After a minute he stopped again. Elliot tossed the Slinky onto the couch and stared at him. He remained unfazed by her gaze and continued writing.

Like clockwork, after a few minutes his attention moved to the phone. Elliot leaned on the armrest, her fist propping up her head.

"If you keep looking at your phone then I'm inclined to believe you have another floozie on the side," she said.

He didn't seem to hear her and went back to writing. Elliot throw up her hands.

"Beckingham Palace! What is going on with you?" she said.

He paused, as if wondering if she had said something but not certain. Elliot crossed her arms.

"Bend it like Beckham, are you going to tell me what is going on with you?"

He lifted his head and looked at her, a cloud of confusion crossing over his face.

"What did you just call me?" he asked.

"What: Beckingham Palace or bend it like Beckham?"

He shook his head and looked back at his screen.

"Don't call me that," he said.

Elliot scowled as the sound of typing took over the office again. Beck's eyes darted to the phone as his fingers stilled for half a second.

"Beck, what is going on?" she said.

He looked at her, his gaze unfocused as if trapped somewhere else. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Nothing," he said.

Elliot took up the slinky and started playing with it again.

"Liar. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. But if you look at that phone again, I'll throw it through the window."

"El, it's nothing."

"I believe that almost as much as I believe the earth is round," she said.

He frowned. "The earth is round, El."

"Sure it is, that's why from way up it looks flat. Makes complete sense."

Beck waved his hand, looking lost.

"What are we even talking about?"

"The fact that something is wrong with you and you aren't telling me."

Beck ran a hand through his hair, his eyes flickering to the phone screen. Elliot silenced the slinky and stared at him.

"David Beckham are you going to tell me what is with you and that phone?"