Day-five Making Her Laugh

Elliot

The day started off perfectly. I had my plan: charm Susan with humor. She always used to say my jokes were terrible, but they made her laugh anyway. If I could get her to crack a smile, it would be progress.

So there I was, striding into the office like a man on a mission. I’d spent the night rehearsing a few jokes in front of the mirror, determined to test them out today. After all, laughter was the best medicine—or, in my case, the best way to win back the love of my life.

First attempt? The elevator.

Susan was waiting by the doors when I spotted her. Perfect timing. As I stepped in beside her, I gave her my best grin.

“Morning,” I said, keeping it casual. “You know, elevators are like relationships.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, really? How’s that?”

“They have their ups and downs.”

She blinked at me, her expression completely blank. I swear I heard the elevator itself groan at my attempt.

“Wow,” she finally said, deadpan. “That was... something.”

Okay, maybe not my best work, but I wasn’t giving up.

---

Attempt number two: Coffee break.

I noticed Susan walking toward the break room, and I followed. Not in a creepy way—at least, I hoped not. I casually grabbed a mug and poured myself some coffee, pretending I hadn’t been waiting for this exact moment.

“Hey, Susan,” I said, leaning against the counter. “What do you call a sad cup of coffee?”

She gave me a sideways glance. “Do I even want to know?”

“A depresso.”

She stared at me for a long moment, and I could see her fighting it—her lips twitching, the corners of her mouth quivering. Finally, she shook her head, muttering, “You’re unbelievable,” as she walked out.

Was that a smile? It totally was. Score one for Elliot.

---

Attempt number three: The copier incident.

I was passing by the copier when I heard Susan muttering under her breath. She was jabbing at the machine like it had personally offended her.

“Need help?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“This stupid thing keeps jamming,” she snapped, her frustration clear.

“Let me take a look,” I offered, stepping closer.

Now, I’ll admit, I’m not exactly a copier expert. But how hard could it be? I opened a random compartment, fiddled with a few levers, and—bam! A puff of toner exploded into my face like a smoke bomb.

Susan gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. For a second, I thought she was concerned, but no—she was laughing.

Actually laughing.

“Oh my god,” she choked out, doubling over. “You look like a reverse panda!”

I wiped at my face, smearing the black powder even further. “Glad I could brighten your day,” I said dryly.

She shook her head, still laughing. “You really are something else, Elliot.”

---

By the end of the day, I was feeling pretty good about my progress. Sure, I’d humiliated myself in front of the copier, but it was worth it to hear her laugh like that.

If winning Susan back meant making a complete fool of myself, then so be it. I’d throw myself at every bad joke, malfunctioning copier, and awkward situation if it got me one step closer to her.

After all, love is a battlefield—and sometimes, it’s also a comedy show.

***

Susan

If someone had told me a week ago that Elliot Prescott, the epitome of seriousness, charm, and brooding CEO energy, would suddenly moonlight as a stand-up comedian, I would’ve laughed in their face.

It started in the elevator.

I was minding my business, scrolling through emails, when he walked in like he owned the world which, technically, he kind of did. He flashed me that grin—the one that used to make my knees weak in college—and said, “Elevators are like relationships. They have their ups and downs.”

I stared at him, unblinking, because surely, surely, this was a hallucination. Did he just…?

“Wow,” I said finally. “That was... something.”

He didn’t even flinch. “Tough crowd,” he muttered under his breath.

Tough crowd? Was this a boardroom or open mic night?

---

Then came the coffee break.

I’d barely made it to the break room when he cornered me with another one of his “brilliant” jokes.

“What do you call a sad cup of coffee?” he asked, his voice dripping with enthusiasm.

Against my better judgment, I played along. “What?”

“A depresso.”

I stared at him, my brain battling between two reactions: cringe or laugh. The man had just used depresso in a sentence with full confidence. What was I supposed to do with that?

Somehow, a smile crept onto my face before I could stop it. I had to make a quick exit before he saw. “You’re unbelievable,” I muttered, walking away.

---

But the grand finale? Oh, that was the copier incident.

I was fighting the ancient office machine, which had decided it hated me, when Elliot swooped in like some sort of copier savior. “Need help?” he offered, in a tone that suggested he actually knew what he was doing.

Honestly, I should’ve stopped him. I knew this wasn’t going to end well. But I was curious. Would Mr. Perfect CEO figure out the one mystery that had stumped every employee here?

Spoiler: No.

He pulled open a random compartment, poked at some levers, and—poof! A cloud of toner exploded in his face like a cheap magic trick.

I gasped, not out of concern, but because he looked like a reverse panda.

And then, I lost it.

I bent over laughing, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. He stood there, deadpan, with streaks of black toner smeared across his ridiculously handsome face.

“Glad I could brighten your day,” he said dryly, which only made me laugh harder.

“Stop,” I managed between breaths. “You look—oh my god, Elliot—you look ridiculous!”

He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Anything to make you laugh.”

And that’s when it hit me.

This wasn’t just him being ridiculous. He was trying. He was going out of his way to make me laugh, to make me forget the weight of everything else for just a moment. And damn it, it was working.

That scared me.

Because Elliot Prescott was dangerous—not in a sinister way, but in a way that got under my skin and made me feel things I’d spent years burying. I couldn’t afford to laugh with him, to let him worm his way back into my heart.

But as I walked back to my office, smiling to myself despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help but wonder: was it already too late?