The Earl and the architect (Or how I accidentally joined my boss' harem)(BWWM)

Pitiful

I was curled up in bed staring at my lock screen which was a photo of Luna and I in each other's arms smiling for the camera. I was in shock, my throat was dry from puking out the alcohols I'd mixed to drown my misery in and tears were balancing in my eyes. As soon as mum left I'd tried to call Luna and had left a number of drunken messages about how much I love her and I'm sorry and could we work this out.

 Apparently she'd listened to them because she text me the contacts of a couple's therapist and said we could work through things when I send her a copy of my signed resignation from Lucas' firm and this project. I couldn't believe my three year relationship was on the line! I couldn't believe I actually had to pick between my very first kind of solo project and my lover. 

There was so much I couldn't wrap my head around and so I started drafting my resignation letter to Lucas. 

I was weeping on about the third sentence, thanking him for opportunity to learn and grow when I was interrupted by my door bell. If you absolutely must know I was a complete and utter wreck after Luna broke up with me. Aside from sending her drunken messages, I had apparently sent them to my cousin Boyd too, who had left the country for America and had been the closest to a sibling I'd ever had. You can imagine how he felt hearing me crying over the phone about how he abandoned me and now Luna had left me and I was alone and no one loved me.

 I'd apparently told him that his crotch would itch like burning fire until his death if he didn't come back. He sent me several messages back, some laughing, some assuring me that Luna was waste and I was better without her, some encouraging me to continue with the project and then finally one that was just a picture of his plane ticket. He couldn't take an early flight out because of his work but it was his way of letting me know I'd see him in a few months time. 

Unfortunately, when my doorbell chimed, I was convinced it was Boyd. I grumbled, kicking the covers off before I dragged my feet towards the door and then opened it without bothering to check who it could be. Lucas Roland was standing there, two boxes stacked on top of each other in his hands. He looks me over, I try and glare at him but a tear escapes my left eye and he sighs loudly at that. Why wasn't it Boyd?!

"What is it?" He asks pushing into the loft

"I know I look clapped mate, you don't have to rub it in!" I say back, my voice shaky and tired

I looked proper nutterz. I had scavenged the house for Luna's things, things that smelled like her, like acqua di parma cipreso di toscana and heaven, I'd found an old bra whose clasp I'd once broken in a fit to get it off her, a torn macintosh, some torn wellie socks and some tights that had run. I was in a vest and shorts and I had thrown this combination of clothing on top of my vest and shorts mostly because I had reasonably concluded that it'd preserve the smell of her more if they didn't come into contact with my skin. 

"What's wrong Funke?" He asks again, this time his hand gently wipes the tear track on my cheek, which only seems to make space for another tear to fall right onto his finger

I try and hold back a sniffle but just end up sobbing as I try and explain that Luna had left me, that I'd have to leave the project and the firm if I wanted her back...and I wanted her back because it was so painful. It hurt, everything hurt and I just want my girlfriend back! My hands were flinging in the air pointing east west and south, at things in the house and other dimensions as I wailed like a bonkers sloshed banshee. 

I don't even know what I'd been thinking plotting my own architecture firm. Clearly I didn't have the gumption for something this big. Even Angus had seen that right away! And now I'd back stabbed my boss, lost my girlfriend and I felt like a vile cretin for everything. The fact that I was howling like a nutter with snort and tears as I explained this to a man who probably couldn't understand a word of what I'm saying was making it all the much worse. I hand him my tablet to show him the resignation letter I'd started typing out, he takes the tab as I try and pull myself together, wiping the tears off of my face as I try to catch my breathe all while sobbing quietly.