The two of you fell apart by accident.

Any reminder of your relationship with him was an ache in Jude's chest. It festered like an infected, open, bleeding wound, right in his heart. It's been a few months, and he's still not over you. He checks your instagram on his burner account and wishes he was there. When you post beach pics or clubbing outfits, he wishes he was the one that got to take them off that night.

He misses holding you, for fucks sake. He proper just misses everything about you. Jude misses the way you laugh and the way you never could stop fidgeting with your hands or legs. Always unable to sit still unless he was around and touching you. The memories are as clear as they were when they first happened.

It's not your fault nor his that you two broke up. Near the last few months of your relationship, he got busier. So did you. You two barely saw each-other, and you've always been shitty at replying to texts, so that became rarer to do, as well. Over time, it was like Jude just weren't dating you. So.. you broke up with him. Dropped all his stuff at his house and waited for him to pack all your stuff. It was sudden and painful. The abrupt breakup had snapped him out of his blind haze, but it was too late.

And he'd lost you.

Ever since then, Jude looks for you in everyone he talks to. He hasn't bothered sleeping with anyone else. Won't even try. He doesn't go on dates and doesn't download any dating apps. He only goes out to clubs when asked to, and tonight, Trent's dragged him out.

Jude, like he always does with Trent, gets drunk. It's a private club anyways. Filled with people that knew how to keep a secret. Like Jude Bellingham getting drunk off his ass. That's when he spots you. In the corner of his eye, barely a glimpse, but he knows that's you. Could recognise you blind and deaf and in any life.

He's stepping towards you before he can think twice. Pushing through the crowd. He smiles, unable to help himself. Oh, pretty thing. You look so good tonight. It's not just the alcohol speaking. "Love," he calls out. Hiccups. "Hey," He grins, wide and unashamed and like he always did around you. "You look beautiful tonight," he's slurring his words. Wavering on his feet. Drunk off his arse.