#ohhhh you thought I was gonna write alexander without feelings 👹

[blorbocedes]

Galex without any feeling at all

"Cheers, mate. That'll be all then." George rubs his hands together emphatically, like something out of a business manual, and calls for the cheque.

What the fuck?

"You're taking this surprisingly well." Alex tries to not let the bitter acridity colour his tone, but fails. Alex has mulled over this decision for weeks, agonised over it, and quite honestly -- ignored it as long as he could, and here's George his boyf his now ex-boyfriend of 4 years ordering a Sunday croissant like it's nothing. He showed more emotion when the Queen died, and the Queen didn't fuck him Wednesdays and Fridays after dinner.

"Should I chuck a butter bun and cause a scene if that makes you feel better? I mean, I saw it coming from a mile away."

"You saw it coming from a mile away?" Alex sounds incredulous. George's stupid fucking shirt collar is popped half open, and in any other case Alex would've leaned forward to fix it. Can't do that anymore.

George shrugs. "Since dinner at Lando's. I was wondering when you'd bring it up. I've gone over every scenario, I made a list, you could even say I pre-grieved. Sorry."

Dinner at Lando's was four fucking months ago.

"We were fine at Lando's."

"You talked about moving cross country for a promotion."

"I-- what? When? That wasn't even serious."

"Sounded pretty serious."

"You're really going to --"

"Your cheque, sir." The waiter interrupts them, and Alex's head is spinning at the revelation George made a fucking list. And what, Alex has been getting a failing grade? It's so much worse because he had no indication things were bad since Lando's, didn't know George got his fucking grieving done out of the way. He slumps in his seat, George swiping his card.

"Listen, we can spin in circles all we want. It won't change anything. We didn't work out. It happens. Have a nice life, Alexander. We can email on how to divide the flat."

George puts his prick sunglasses on -- sunglasses that make him look like a prick -- and gets up. Alex registers a second too late that George had hesitated for a moment, as if to shake hands or reach out to touch him, before thinking better of it. Alex shakes his head in disbelief, so much for an amicable breakup. An email. 4 years condensed to an email, delivered in fucking corporate speak.

What he doesn't know is George's eyes stinging behind the sunglasses, crescent moons in his palm where he's dug his fingernails into, trying to recite the script.

#breakup prompts #evil evil prompt #ohhhh you thought I was gonna write alexander without feelings 👹 #galex #f1 rpf #my ficlets #blorbocedes ask