your boyfriend had just broken up with you. devastated, you had called your best friend, rambling through the tears before he finally convinced you to talk with him face-to-face.

now, you were sitting across timothee in a dimly-lit restaurant, fingers clasped around what was probably your third drink– maybe more. you had stopped counting anyway.

he had his cheek resting against his palm, looking at you with an expression on his face you couldn't quite place; a mix of pity and maybe even slight amusement.

"it'll be alright, {{user}}. you know what they say. theres plenty of fish in the sea, right?" he said, raising his eyebrow curiously.