Red, White & Royal Blue Stories

• It's Too Much • Henry § Alex •

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐

I don't know if this one is good. Or not. It's sort of hard to tell because I've been mulling over it for quite some time. But, regardless, here it is. I'll make a part two soon.

• ———— •

Alex couldn't do it, he realised in an appalling downward spiral of self worth. He couldn't do it.

Currently, he was sitting in his office, repeatedly tugging a hand through his hair as his eyes scanned over the spec for the year. He had completed his first two years of law school with differencing experiences.

The first year was everything he thought it would be; exciting, adventurous, downright fun . It allowed him something to do, something to throw himself into after his summer break. Between studying, attending lectures and busying himself with first son duties, he could wind down with Henry, go on dates they weren't afforded before they were outed, hang out with friends without having to worry if they'd slip up.

It was an incredible year, filled with memories he'd never forget.

The second year... was okay. It didn't have the sense of adventure as the first year did, he already made a bunch of friends and sort of stuck to who he knew. The topics were interesting and he adored studying in the rich library after hours; with Henry notably more involved with his shelters, neither had to worry about accidentally neglecting each other, and managed to create a system in which they could share their ever-growing, ever-lasting love for each other.

However, the end of semester exams were a lot. They were stressful; more so than he imagined. He managed to get the grades he needed but not easily. And right now, for some unknown reason, he couldn't fucking breathe.

Staring at the workload for the year was doing something to his stomach, twisting it in angles he didn't think were possible, clenching at his heart and ripping into his very soul.

He couldn't entirely grasp what was wrong, it wasn't even that bad, just a bit more than the last two years. This was it, he knew that, after this year he would pass and he wouldn't have to study on five cans of energy drinks mixed with extra shots of caffeine (it was a testament to the human body he was still alive).

So why, why did he want to cry? It was a shocking revelation, a bit pathetic too. He felt like a child once they started school; it wasn't something he wanted yet he couldn't back out now, how could he possibly end it after already finishing two years? It would be a huge waste, and he couldn't exactly follow through with a political lifestyle, what with being boyfriends with the Prince of Wales, and knowing one day they'd marry.

He took in a staggering breath, clenching his eyes shut. He couldn't hide the fact this feeling wasn't new. Amongst the good, there was the bad. The brief moments in the past two years where he had a moment to himself; the feeling crept up. Haunting him during the night; plaguing him to study, study, distract himself, fuck Henry, study .

He still couldn't figure out what was wrong .

Impulsively, he slammed shut the laptop, surprised he didn't hear a crack of the screen. He was fine, he rationalised, he would be fine. He's done this twice; he can do it again. One last time.

Yet something huge, something growing, something grotesque told him he couldn't. And for the first time in the past two years, he believed it. He believed every word it oozed through his mind; telling him he couldn't do it.

He needed to stop. He needed to end it. Not his life; but the work. The overbearing, overloading work. He could still vividly remember the long, long nights spent in his office, eyes dry, throat burning from another sip of coffee. If it wasn't coffee, it was energy drinks, and if it wasn't either, it was alcohol.