The Perfect Poem (Elliott X Masc Reader)

Unfinished Poems

Ever since you met him, Elliott, he's hung in the back of your mind for days- no- weeks on end. Repeating all of his smooth words with his buttery voice over and over in your mind. He's all so intriguing. It's difficult not to want to see him. But you've been so busy you've run yourself sore with all of the gardening, planting and all of the animal chores.

You wipe sweat from your face, smudging dirt on your face. It's so hard to focus. One meet with a slightly attractive guy and it's enough to throw another man into disarray. 

"Elliott... What have you done to me?" You whisper to yourself. Your duck looks up at you in confusion. 

"I don't believe your name is Elliott, little one." She quacks at you. "I know, come here." You pick her up, petting her before setting her back down. 

Today is an overly sunny day, too sunny if you were to ask yourself. Your forehead begins to burn and itch. Signaling that you've spent enough time outside for today. It's only four. 

"What do you think, Loaf? Should I see him?" Your duck gives an overly dramatic, almost cartoon look to her and quacks angrily at you. "Okay- okay. I guess not. Let's just head down to the saloon instead. Talk to Gus and Emily for a little bit before people begin showing up." Why were you talking to your ducks? You had no idea, but they listen despite it.

"I know, I'm weird." You get up from off the ground, dusting of dirt and you head inside. Satisfied with your work you decide to shower before getting in something decent to visit the saloon for a couple drinks. 

The sun is lower than it was about thirty minutes ago, you begin walking down the dirt road to the saloon.

You pass Pierre's, "Evening Pierre!" He turns around and flashes you a bright smile.

"Evening, Y/N! Care to come in for a few last minute items before I close up?" You stop to talk to him.

"Ah, no that's alright. The season is already midway through, I think I've got all the crops I need. I've filled my fields, Pierre." 

"Then may we both continue to profit!" He says, laughing. You continue down the street.

Your aching bones wish for a seat, so once you get inside you take a seat at the barstool closest to the till. 

Gus spots you and he smiles big, "What can I get you, Y/N?" 

"Just an ale Gus." 

"You look mighty sunburnt. Have you eaten since you've been off of the field?" He asks you. 

"Oh that wont be necessary." 

"Yes it will, get him your special spaghetti, Gus." A smooth, buttery voice says as they place down some cash on the counter. "Add that ale too." 

"I can buy my own bartab, thank you-" You stop once you see the source of the voice. "Elliott." 

"Y/N. It's been a couple days." He says, sitting next to you.

"Weeks." You catch yourself, and look away. "Not that I'm counting." He laughs.

"I was." He responds. You regain your composure as you turn towards him. Why was he counting the days you two haven't seen each other?

"I really could have covered my own bartab." He only smirks.

"Yes, but I wanted to. And besides, Gus' spaghetti is the best in town. Just because you've got a kitchen does not mean you can't go out to eat every now and then." It's hardly a five star restaurant you think.

"I suppose."

"Besides, you look exhausted. An ale won't do much to help you there. You need some actual food. And water." It hits him, you also need water.

"Emily," he calls her over, "would you do me a favor and get Y/N here a glass of water?" He places more cash onto the table and she waves it off. 

"We don't charge for water here. It's unnecessary." She says, turning around to grab you a bottle of water. She places it on the table and Elliott slides it towards you.

"You wont get that ale until you drink all of that."

"What are you, my mother?" 

You've met this man once and he's already so worried in your well-being he's going out of his way to make sure you're fed and not dehydrated. 

"You're a big boy, you've got this." He says. You roll your eyes and open the lid with a crack and drink the whole bottle in a chug.

"I meant slowly, you smart-ass." You chuckle as Gus comes over with the food. 

He has no idea what he does to you. All these lines and phrases phasing through your mind. All these unfinished poems going unread and unwritten in your brain. It's just a dumb little crush, you have to tell yourself.

Yep, just a dumb little crush.

"Y/N? You alright?" He asks. You look at him.

"Oh, yeah. I just realized how exhausted I was." He looks worried and upset for a moment.

"I apologize if I came off as overbearing. I know we don't know each other very well, but I do wish we can become friends." He tells you.

"Me too, Elliott. And I don't think you were being overbearing," a little flirtatious maybe. But you weren't about to tell him that. "Let's start over." 

"Hi, my name is Y/N. I'm the new-ish, farmer in town." He laughs a little and shakes your hand.

"Elliott. I'm the hermit writer in the worn down cabin by the beach." You have the urge to begin cackling, but hold back.

You want to keep his hand in yours for just a little longer, but he pulls it back and allows you to eat. 

You take forkfull after forkfull of spaghetti, and Elliott was right. This is great.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" He asks you. Other than yardwork and taking care of your animals, you weren't.

"No. Well, other than my chores." It looks like he immediately gets an idea.

"How would you like a little bit of help with those chores?" He asks.

"Really? You'd get all dirty and sweaty?" He stops.

"I could feed your animals." You laugh.

"Sure, Elliott. Come on over as early as you want." You tell him. He nods, smiling.

"I'm gonna turn in, but I'll see you tomorrow." He says, leaving you to your paid food and ale.

He left you confused and flustered. But you'll see him tomorrow, so you're happy.

After finishing your food you head home, enjoying the cool night air on your sunburnt skin. You walk home happily.