Page 19 of Pistols and Plush Toys

“Sort of anything,” Elliot made himself say.

Nikolai had asked, after all. And while the man could very well take away the battered, half-filled-out puzzle book that Elliot currently had in his possession, that didn’t seem to be his intention behind asking.

“I like crossword and sudoku best, but I also play stuff like Words with Friends and Wordle and Letter Boxed on my phone. Really anything. I just like puzzling things out.”

“Not the…” Nikolai paused, thinking. “The puzzles with the little pieces that make picture?”

Elliot grinned. “No, not that kind of puzzle. The thinking kind.”

“Do you do New York Times crossword?”

“On my phone, yeah,” Elliot said. “I was on a streak with it, but…” He trailed off awkwardly. That—that definitely was over. He hadn’t had access to his phone since he’d been kidnapped, so all of his streaks were over.

It was the least important thing about his situation, but he still felt sad thinking about it now. He didn’t have a lot of his own things living with Mattia, but his puzzles and games had been something.

Nikolai frowned. “I cannot give you your phone.”

“No!” Elliot rushed to say. “No, I-I understand. I wasn’t–sorry.” He bit his lip. Immediately let it go.

But Nikolai was still looking at him, expression troubled. Then he pulled out his phone and began typing.

“It is Sunday today. I can get you paper.”

“Oh, I mean—” Elliot swallowed. “That’s okay.”

Nikolai shrugged. “Is fine to give you the paper. I’m not knowing how much longer you will have to stay.”

Elliot sat with that statement, trying to decide whether or not he should ask. Finally, he decided that if Nikolai didn’t want to answer the question, he could just ignore it. “Are… negotiations not going well?”

Nikolai shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Vitale, he is… being difficult.”

Elliot didn’t know how to feel about that. He hadn’t really expected Mattia to jump to his rescue, but he had stupidly assumed there would be some sort of urgency. Mattia had been protective of him in a way that had led Elliot to think he’d at least do something to get him back.

But maybe his affections really had waned that much. Maybe Elliot wasn’t worth enough to give up whatever Nikolai was asking for.

That… didn’t feel great. His stomach dropped, and a burn started behind his eyes. Fuck, he was not going to cry here, not now.

Nikolai cleared his throat and purposefully wasn’t looking at him. “For now, I can be giving you more things to do. You can have pen for your puzzle book. And if you’re wanting more to cook, give me lists and I’m will order ingredients for you.”

“Okay,” Elliot said thickly. He shoved away the thought of Mattia, trying to focus on what Nikolai was offering. There were worse ways to spend captivity than doing puzzles and cooking.

There were certainly worse captors to have than Nikolai, as it turned out.

Before the timer went off, Alex strode into the kitchen. His sudden appearance made Elliot jump, but Alex didn’t even look at him—just thrust a newspaper at Nikolai. Nikolai thanked him, and he quickly went back out.

It was the New York Times, the Sunday edition.

Elliot turned away from it as the timer went off, glad to have something to do to distract himself from the way his throat tightened and his lip trembled.

Get yourself together, he hissed at himself as he pulled on oven mitts.

He pulled the fries out, checking that they were done, and then slid the pan on the stovetop to cool. He took a few seconds to breathe, to steady his emotions.

It was fine. It was all fine.

Nikolai got up and retrieved plates and napkins, and Elliot plated the fries. He grabbed another small bowl to divide the a?oli between them, and then they were sitting back down to sweet potato fries.

Elliot thought he should say something, but he wasn’t sure what. He felt too fragile after learning about how difficult Mattia was being. He was afraid if he opened his mouth, something painful might come out.

Then Nikolai was picking up a still steaming fry and dipping it into the sauce. Elliot held his breath as the man popped it into his mouth.

A moment later Nikolai's brows went up in what definitely looked like pleasure. Elliot tried not to shift in his seat, tamping down on the desire to ask if he liked it.

“Wow,” Nikolai said when he swallowed. “Is very good. A nice, strong flavor. Very good.”

“Yeah?” Elliot asked hopefully.

“Yes.” Nikolai reached for another fry. “Different from other fries, but is good. And healthy?”

Elliot nodded. “Baking instead of frying is generally better.”

Nikolai made a thoughtful noise. Then he pulled out his phone and appeared to snap a picture. “I will send to Meredith. She will like it.”

Elliot felt hot around the collar as he picked up one of his own fries and dipped it in sauce.

They were just fries with a simple dip, but he was disproportionately pleased that Nikolai liked them.

That he was taking photos and sending them to his assistant.

He couldn’t remember the last time Mattia had been happy with something he made, let alone thrilled.

Elliot had started to doubt his cooking abilities living with Mattia.

But today, he’d made something good.

That—that meant a lot.