Page 4 of Knot That Serious

Well, it’d be a waste not to eat it, right?

2. Necessity

Eli

Sometimes, Eli really hated her fucking roommate.

But it was nice to return to a clean apartment, she had to admit. Jack had replaced the bouquet of fresh flowers on the kitchen bar, and as grumpy as she felt, she couldn’t resist leaning over the counter for a sniff.

The knot in her stomach eased a little, but she didn’t stick around to appreciate the tidy coffee table and kitchen counters, empty sink, and swept floors because she trudged straight to her room.

Collapsing on the pile of blankets and pillows, she groaned and crawled her way to the middle, sighing happily as she was surrounded by the familiarity of home.

The scent of the bakery clung to her, sugar sweeter and stronger than her own barely-there cherry and cocoa, but bittered with sweat from the heat of the kitchen. What she should really do is shower.

Instead she scrolled through her phone, hopping social media apps like they were popular bars, finding both nothing and everything of note.

She scrolled past a post about midnight cravings, and her gaze jumped to the account name. Heat_Struggles101.

Oh shit.

It hit her suddenly, why she was so irritated and grumpy, why she’d been going through the clementines like candy, sharp and sweet and sour just like the peaks and valleys of her emotions.

Swiping out of the app, she scrolled through her calendar to confirm—yep.

That little blue dot over a week away meant her heat was coming. Soon.

Shit. Usually the pharmacy called to confirm her prescription for her suppressant meds by now. Had she missed them? She tabbed over to her call log, but no missed calls blinked back.

With a frown, she pulled up the pharmacy and tapped the number.

It rang, and the robotic voice with the hours droned on before asking her to select an option, and Eli ground her teeth together as she placed the call on speaker mode to get to the number pad. Making calls was the bane of her existence. Why did they have to make it so complicated, would someone just pick up the fucking ph—

“This is Gina, how can I help you?” a cheerful voice said after going through the scripted greeting.

Deep breath. Why hadn’t she rehearsed? “Uh, hi Gina, I’m Elizabeth Moore, and I was calling to check on my prescription. Usually I hear from the pharmacy by now, and I want to make sure there’s no issues.”

“Of course, let me get you pulled up.”

Gina hemmed and hawed, confirmed Eli’s identity, and typed on her keyboard on the other line, and Eli made the polite small talk and tried not to chew on her lip while she waited.

“Oh, I see it’s for a heat suppressant,” Gina offered, a note to her tone that made Eli sit up straighter.

“Yeah, that’s actually why I called. It’s coming up soon, and—”

“I am so sorry to hear that,” Gina interrupted. “We’ve actually had trouble getting any suppressants in stock, and we’ve been told to recommend patients to the Omega Center.”

Eli swallowed. “What? So you don’t have it?”

“No, we haven’t been able to keep up with patient demands lately.”

What the fuck?

“Well—what if—could I have my prescription changed to another pharmacy? What about a different brand? I could try the patches. Or, uhm, is there another pharmacy you could order from? I only ask because that’s what they’ve done in the past.”

Gina hummed sympathetically after Eli finally stopped asking questions, though more continued to supply themself in her head.

Eli brought her thumb to her mouth, rubbing the rough skin of her cuticle against her bottom lip.