“I think we need to talk.” “Marry me?” (from this meme)
“I think we need to talk,” Oliver says, not quite meeting Connor’s eyes. He’s been like this all dinner – fidgety, nervous, short with conversation. He barely ate his pasta.
Connor knows what this is. He’s been dumped before. Never in a fancy restaurant where he had to wear a tie, but hey, there’s a first for everything.
He’s been expecting this. It’s always been inevitable. Oliver is a good, pure person – all heart and kindness and forgiveness. Connor never had a chance. Never deserved a second one.
This is overdue. Though Connor’s been the best boyfriend he can be, he’s not enough. He’s short sometimes. He works too much. He’s not a good cook. Oliver deserves someone as bright as him. Connor’s just a smudge.
Yet even expected, it hurts. Connor twists the napkin in his lap. He bounces his leg. He wants to run or cry or beg, or all three somehow at once. His heart’s too tight. His stomach’s in knots.
He’s not good enough for Oliver, but he wanted to be. He tried to be.
Why wasn’t that enough?
“Connor. You know that I love you… I do, and I -“
"But?” Connor supplies. If this is going to happen, let it happen quickly. It’s still early. Connor can head to a bar and drown himself in booze and men, and forget all about Oliver. Except even thinking about being with anyone else makes Connor’s skin crawl.
And forgetting about Oliver? Impossible.
Coliver 12 & 28?
Published
lanablack 