Pierre choked on his beer as you were nervously looking at him, alternating with the situation behind your back. Maybe it was the pleading look on your face or your fingers being torn in every way in your hands but Pierre dropped his beer on the counter of the bar and presented his hand to you, that you took oh so gratefully.
Pierre had known you for years now. To see him leave had been a heartbreak in its own and even though you were proud of him and happy for him, the fact that he had no idea how sad you were when he left was pretty much all the proof you needed to move on from your blatant crush that you had nursed since you met him at nursery school, back when you were both three.
You discreetly pointed at your ex, who was watching a pool game in the opposite corner of the bar. He looked like a jackass and now that your rose-colored glasses were off, you wondered how freaking high you might have been when you started dating him.
He looked so repulsive, now that you knew that his brown eyes hid the darkest soul you could find. At the time, you thought he was nice looking. He was loud, he always laughed, he made jokes⦠he was self-aware and self-confident, projecting it onto everyone around him. To be around him meant liking him, whether you had a reason to or not. He was just manipulative like that. Once he had you between his claws, the self-confidence turned into bitter words and reproaches.
Not quite the prince charming everyone thought him to be. Your shiver was hard to conceal, especially as you were standing so close to Pierre. He had been young and stupid, he had played with his charm, but he had never forced anyone to do anything, he had always stated the things clearly and he had never, ever , been mean.
