It was the first time in days that Matthew had shown up at the place, and he hadn't said a word to Eli that didn't have to do with how he liked his coffee. Granted, he was still perfectly nice even while more or less ignoring Eli’s existence. If that hadn't been what Eli had wanted all along, he would have flipped a table.

But, it was what Eli wanted. Or at least, he'd thought so. He'd lost count of the times he'd asked Matthew to leave him alone, and now, the man was actually doing that. The problem was, it pissed Eli off. Sometimes, Eli had to admit to himself that he was an idiot.

He still couldn't help but glare as Matthew walked out of the shop after finishing his coffee. 

"What's up with you giving Matthew the evil eye?" Michael asked, brow raised in a questioning look. At least he’d not mentioned the general weirdness between Eli and Matthew until the latter was gone. 

"Nothing, I wasn't giving him the evil eye. This is how I always look," Eli said, turning away from Michael and going to wipe the tables.

"Well, you do have a funny face." That, of course, got Michael a glare. "But seriously, what'd he do to piss you off?"

"Nothing," Eli insisted, because it was true. Matthew hadn't done anything except what Eli had been asking him to do for months. Eli was perfectly aware of this and it just served to make him even more annoyed—this time with himself. "I'm just having a bad day," he added when he received an unconvinced look from Michael.

“I thought any day you had to talk to people was a bad day.” Fair enough.

“An especially bad day then.”

He seemed to believe that, eventually. Eli supposed that was thanks to the truly crappy days he'd had in the past, most of which Michael had heard about. Some of which he’d partly been the cause of. 

"Well, stop glaring at our customers. We don't want to be known as that one shop with the surly redhead," Michael said. Eli reminded himself that Michael was his boss and kicking him in the shins would not be productive to his goal of earning money.

He still accidentally sprayed whipped cream on the back of his head while preparing a drink. Michael didn't comment on the fact that Eli's face was completely devoid of anything that could be considered an apologetic expression. Or that his aim was off by three feet and the wrong direction.

Sometimes, Eli enjoyed working with Michael. But only sometimes.

He was still glad when the day was over and he was able to go home. He just wished his life was a bit less dull, just enough that he would appreciate the parts not having to do with work or school.

You had a creepy, third-rate superhero stalker and you call your life boring, Eli thought. He tried not to think of how that wasn't a part of his life anymore.

As soon as he got home, he dropped his bag without a care of where it landed, and trudged to the couch. The springs on the old piece of furniture creaked as the redhead let himself fall onto it. He grabbed the TV remote that lay just within reach on his coffee table and switched on the television, thinking he could watch something before he tortured his brain with more studying.

Of course the first image that flashed on the screen was of the last man he wanted to see. Eli couldn't help but groan as Vigilante appeared—just a shadowy silhouette jumping between buildings. He didn't bother to listen to whatever story the brunette reporter was spouting this time. It wasn't like they wouldn't repeat it about a thousand times until they had something new. More importantly, it didn't concern Eli.

He sighed tiredly as he leaned back on the couch, and draped an arm over his eyes, doing his best to ignore the news. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep, too tired from his day to fight it. Eli awoke later to the chipper voice of a woman in an infomercial. Tiredly, he sat up and picked up his phone to look at the time.

Apparently, he'd been asleep for about two hours. He didn't know whether he should be glad he got to nap for a bit or panic that he hadn't gotten any schoolwork done. Just as he was considering attempting to get something done, he heard a sound come from his room. A sound much like the soft closing of a window.

If asked later, Eli would adamantly deny having rushed to his room. He most definitely did not burst in with a feeling of hope, and certainly wasn't disappointed when he found nothing out of place. Claiming otherwise would be ridiculous.

With a slight frown, Eli walked over to the window and opened it, which was unlocked. Eli took note of it, if only because he’d been good about making sure everything was locked before leaving. All of Matthew’s complaining about Eli’s lack of security measures had apparently worked well enough to make Eli at least somewhat more responsible. 

The cold wind tousled his hair as he leaned against the frame, sticking his head out to look around. There was nothing out of the ordinary. No shadows shifting in the dark night, trying to hide from his sight. Nothing but a stray cat mewling in the distance and the faint sound of his neighbor's television playing some action movie—the gunshots and explosion sound effect were enough to tell him that.

Sighing, Eli pulled back from the window before shutting it. He made sure to lock it before he turned and decided he didn't much feel like studying after all.