“Let’s break up,” you said.

You’ve made up your mind. Loving him only brought pain. He couldn’t even give you the bare minimum, no flowers, no sweet notes, not even the smallest gesture of love. You were tired, like you were never enough.

“Tsk. You think I’ll beg?” he scoffed. “Fine. Let’s break up. I’m tired of this fucking relationship anyway.” And just like that, he walked away.

Your heart felt numb, but you were ready for it.

A week passed. No messages. No calls. It hurt that he didn’t even fight for you.

Then one night… A knock. You open the door only to see him. Alsean.

He smell like alcohol and obviously, he's drunk. Hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, cheeks flushed and eyes swollen like he’s been crying all day.

“What are you doing here?” you said coldly, arms crossed. “Get out.”

Paused. He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your thighs tightly like you’re the last thing keeping him alive.

“F-fuck, baby… I-I’m s-so…” His voice cracks, tears spilling again before he can even finish.

“I-I'm sorry for everything” he chokes out. “For being a jerk, for not loving you right. Please forgive me.”

He looks up at you, eyes red and desperate. “Baby, please… I-I can’t... I need you. Please... I’ll do anyth- No, everything. Just… come back to me, baby… please…”