𝕊𝕋𝕆ℝ𝕀𝔼𝕊 𝔽ℝ𝕆𝕄 𝔸 𝕎𝕆ℝ𝔻 ～ 𝘋𝘺𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘖'𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯

8) Frangible

Frangible (adjective) [fran-juh-buh l]
Easily broken; breakable

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When you were at work, Dylan had texted you to meet him at the bar you both always go to on weekends. Since you were tied up with something at work, you didn't get to see each other so much, and since Dylan just finished a project, you thought it was a great idea.

Work finished quicker than expected. You looked forward to spending the evening with him, so that helped you get through the get the day.

You got into your car and drove to the bar. You found a parking spot a couple of spaces outside the bar door. You had changed before leaving work, and wore jeans, a red plaid shirt and sneakers.

You pushed the  bar door open and walked inside. There was a tray with free drinks of some new brew the bar was offering. You were tempted and took two glasses. One for you and one for Dylan.

You drank yours as you walked ahead. You scanned the crowd of people for your boyfriend. You found him sitting at the bar and you walked towards him with a smile.

You were about to say something, when you stopped. What you saw in front stopped you.

The girl sitting next to Dylan kissed him on the cheek. He turned to her with a smile and kissed her... on the lips.

Your heart stopped, literally. This wasn't happening. You couldn't trust your eyes.

You looked away, hoping that it was some sort of hallucination. You felt sick when it wasn't.

The glasses you were holding slipped from you grasp and fell to the ground. They shattered into a million pieces, catching everyone's attention.

You stood still, staring straight ahead at the jerk in front, sitting at the bar. You couldn't believe you just called him a jerk, called Dylan a jerk.

He looked back, a look of pure regret on his face. He started to stand up and run to you, realising what he had done, but you were faster than him. You were already out of the bar.

You ran to your car and got in. You slammed the door shut as tears rolled down your cheeks. You started the car and hit the gas. You glanced the back view mirror, watching as Dylan ran towards your car.

You drove as fast as you could. You wished it was a nightmare and that you'd wake up sometime soon.

He doesn't care about me like I thought he does, you thought as you sped towards your home.

You looked back one last time at the back view mirror. The bar was left in the distance as you drove on.

You thought he was yours... but he wasn't.