💔LaDS men realising they still love MC💔
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Dating him made you feel loved, wanted — cherished. Yet, you couldn't help but notice the look he gave her. He told you about her, how he once loved her, but how her heart belonged to another. Seeing the pain in his eyes, you comforted him — gave him all your love and much, much more. Nothing could stop the two of you. You felt like you were on cloud nine and then some...
But, it came tumbling down into a fiery pit of anger and heartache once you realised the unbearable truth.
He loved her. Always has. Always will.
...But not you.
a/n: hope the intro was captivating enough! drafting when it's nearly midnight is always fun lmfao. anyway, guess who's got into love and deepspace? MEEEE :3 enjoy this absolute angst-fest <33
info: you're dating the lads men, but realise that he still loves emcie. so, what do you do?
extra notes: mc's name is emcee for the sake of clarity! you are not mc in this! also sorry if i made any of the boys ooc! i tried to stay as true to their character as possible (yes i'm apologising for the long caleb chapter i am so sorry caleb girlies </3)
Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2 | ALT. Part 2 (soon!)
genre: angst
word count (minus intro): 5.4k
remember to drink water and enjoy <3
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⭐️Xavier⭐️
Xavier. Your calm, sleepy boyfriend. Despite not showing it much in public, he shows his affection towards you in the comfort of your own home or his apartment, much preferring to watch your reactions in private than in front of other people. Other than work or napping, he likes hanging out with you and going on dates.
Yet, whenever you go over to pick him up from work, you always notice his blue eyes staring at Emcee with a look that he never gives you — devotion. A lost, longing devotion. He always manages to snap out of it once she looks your way and waves to you, his hand gently resting on your waist with a twinge of hesitation.
And you always notice. It goes on for almost a year, and you ignore it. For the first few months, he only looks at you — focuses on you. But after that, his mind and eyes seem to wander off to Emcee.
It comes to a head when you confront him about it after ignoring it, thinking he'd eventually look at you that way once more. But you can't handle being the second thing he looks at, the hesitant thing he touches. It's driving you mad.
"What are you talking about?" Is the first thing out of his mouth once you start confronting him about it that night as you sat in his apartment. Sitting up on the bed next to him, you look down at your lap, trying desperately to articulate your next words coherently.
"It's just..." You trail off, glancing at him as he copies your movements, sitting up next to you and looking at you, yet not quite seeing you. And that's what annoys you the most. "Whenever I pick you up at work, I notice your eyes don't land on me when I walk through the doors. You just... You stare at Emcee. And you only stop until she greets me..."
And that's what causes your relationship to crumble. You tell him everything that is on your chest that night, and he listens. He holds you, apologising from the bottom of his heart. He even takes you out on a date the next day...
But that doesn't bridge a gap or close the smidge of distance between the two of you. It only creates a slowly growing cliff in your relationship, making the distance unbearable.
He is much quieter, if that was possible. He barely glances in your direction, barely touches you, rarely asks you to come over or go on a date. It's like he doesn't want to do anything with you. You feel the final thread holding you two together finally snap in the car ride back to his apartment.
After walking him to his door, you break the silence rather abruptly, taking his hand before it could reach the door handle. He turns to you, a brow slightly raised. It's the first time he has looked at you at all that day.
Silently, he watches as you reach behind your neck and take off the necklace he had gifted you, handing it to him as you speak.
"I can't take this anymore," You begin, forcing your voice to steady as you place the jewellery in his palm, giving his fingers a gentle push to close around it. "This distance. The silence. I can't do it. I'm sorry, Xavier, but we're done. I'm breaking up with you."
He just stares at you as you speak, unsure of whether to fight for this relationship or comfort you or... Well, do anything, really. It's only when he sees the tears you've been so desperately holding back fall down your tinted cheeks that his brows furrow, his pupils shrinking and slightly dilating as he stares at you. He blinks once, maybe twice, before he clutches the necklace in his hand and looks down at the dangling chain.
"...Y/N, I-" He gazes up to answer, only for you to be halfway down the hall towards the elevator. His shoulders tense as he watches you walk away, his foot lurching forward to chase you, only to stop once you get in the elevator and disappear as Emcee exits the elevator with a concerned look. Her gaze meets Xavier's as she walks over to him, a bag of ingredients in hand.
"Xavier? What happened? Is Y/N okay?" Her question falls on deaf ears for a moment before Xavier shakes his head.
"...It's... Nothing..." He trails off, eyes darting to the bag of ingredients. His fist clenches around the necklace, letting the metal chain and pendant dig into his palm. With a shake of his head, he dismisses her. "Sorry, Emcee. I'm not in the mood to cook with you right now... I'll... See you later." Emcee watches as he disappears into his apartment, leaving her confused and concerned for her friends.
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🐟Rafayel🐟
Thomas leads you into the studio, thanking you for coming.
"He's been locked up in there for a while, muttering things under his breath," He speaks, rather concerned. "He was staring at his phone all morning when the workers and I walked in, but he suddenly shooed us away. We thought he needed space and silence to paint, but when an hour passed and we heard nothing, we tried to get his attention. Rafayel told us to go away every time. The reason why you're here is obvious," He turns to you once you stand by the door. "You're his partner. Do you think you can get through to him?"
"I can try," You mumble, raising a fist to the door and knocking rhythmically. "Raf?"
"Go away!" His muffled voice chimes through the door. You sigh, knocking again.
"Raffy, it's me," You try, your voice softer now. "Can you let me in? We're worried about you..."
"No! I need space!" Thomas and you exchange a look of exasperation before sighing.
"Good thing I called back up. Here she is," Thomas beams, eyes darting behind you. Turning, you see Emcee approaching, worry in her gaze as she enters with Caleb behind her. A pang of jealousy stings your heart at the sight of her, but you push it down. You can't be mad at her, after all — she knows nothing of Rafayel's feelings for her like you do. But seeing Emcee and Caleb hold hands as you step aside to let her reach the door gives you a pit in your stomach that you never knew existed.
After knocking, Emcee calls for him. On the other side of the door, you can hear Rafayel basically sprint and trip over to the door, mumbling curses under his breath before he opens it. His face lights up upon seeing Emcee.
"Miss Bodyguard! You're here--" His eyes dart to Caleb, then to their connected hands, before he frowns and slams the door in their faces. There's a stunned silence between you all before you shake your head and gently usher Emcee and Caleb aside to speak to Rafayel through the door.
"Rafayel! Don't be so rude," You scold, hand on the door knob turning it left and right. It's locked, of course. "Come on, just tell us what's going on! We're worried about you!"
Silence from the other end. You feel tears brimming your eyes, a lump in your throat becoming hard to swallow. Thomas places his hand on your shoulder, the reflection of light from his wedding ring distracting you for a moment as he speaks.
"...Perhaps you should go home," His gaze falls onto the couple behind you. "You, too. I'll let you know if he's alright by the morning."
"No," You hiss, voice determined despite the ache in your chest. "Raf's my boyfriend. I'm too worried to go home now! I'm staying right here until he's ready to talk." Emcee and Caleb exchange concerned glances as Thomas sighs, shaking his head as he grabs a chair.
"Alright, take a seat. I'll order takeout for you," He says, slightly exasperated. You sit down on the chair and thank him, crossing your arms and trying not to look Emcee in the eyes in fear of tearing up.
Soon after, Emcee and Caleb leave and so does Thomas, rubbing his temples to soothe the headache that's forming. As you wait in the chair, you fail to swallow the lump in your throat, a choked sob bubbling out of your lips before you could stop it. You place your hand over your mouth and take some breaths, hoping no one heard you.
But someone did.
Footsteps approach the door you're waiting in front of before it swings open, revealing a dishevelled Rafayel whose eyes are glassy and bloodshot. Upon seeing you, his gaze darkens slightly.
"...Come in," He says, voice dull as he steps aside. "We need to talk." Your stomach drops.
Once inside, he's the first to speak.
"...I thought I was over her," He admits, sitting down on one of the sofas. "I thought that, with you as my partner, I'd finally be able to leave her behind. But after seeing her with..." He trails off, fists clenching before he glances up at you. "I'm sorry, Y/N, we can't be together anymore."
"What?!" You exclaim, tears threatening to spill again. "No! No, don't say that! We can still be together--"
"No, we can't! Not after I just admitted to using you," Rafayel argues, making you pause. His Adam's apple bobs with a heavy swallow, tears falling down his cheeks as he watches your expression change to utter despair. He hates this, but it has to be done. "I'm sorry... But you need to leave. Please."
"...Raffy-"
"Now," He interrupts, eyes boring into yours. The way his gaze proceeds to darken strikes something deep within you, and you're unable to keep yourself together. Tears fall from your eyes and a sob rips from your throat — your heart feels like it's burning from the inside out as you stare at him for a moment, stifling a sob, before you turn and swiftly leave the room, grabbing your bag and pushing past Thomas on the way out while you cry.
Thomas, after quickly glancing at your face as you dash out, sighs and enters the room. On the sofa, Rafayel hangs his head between his knees, hands threading and pulling tight on his hair as his body trembles. Thomas leans against the doorframe, unsure of what to do or say to comfort him or you in that moment.
This is a mess.
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🐦⬛Sylus🐦⬛
Eyes fluttering open, you squint as the sun filters through a gap in your curtains, birds chirping and cawing reaching your ears through the slightly open windows as the morning greets you with a smile... And a crow in your face.
You yelp, heart hammering in your chest as you immediately jolt awake before your tired eyes recognise who it was. Sighing, you reach out to pet Mephisto's tiny head, a sleepy smile on your face.
"Good morning, Mephie," You wearily speak, eyes then landing on the note in his beak. You take it and he caws rather... Sadly? "What's this, hm? What's wrong--"
As you read it, your face drops. Your eyes widen, suddenly awake with every written word you read. It's his handwriting, that's for sure. But the usual passionate, devoted tone is gone, replaced with solemn strokes of expensive pen ink.
This wasn't a good-morning letter like usual. This was a break-up letter.
Y/N, I'm sorry to spring this on you so early in the morning — I expect Mephisto has given you quite the wake-up call. Unfortunately, I have no desire nor time to tell you this in person, so a letter will have to suffice. I'm going to be upfront with you, like I have been from the start: I don't love you anymore, Y/N. We can no longer be together. This letter will be the last you hear from me and the last you see Mephisto. I'm sure that, with time, you will find someone who truly treasures and adores you. Goodbye. — Sylus.
You stare at the letter, stunned to silence as you re-read it over and over again. Sitting upright, you look up from the letter to glare at Mephisto, a heartbroken rage engulfing you.
"...Give me 10 minutes," You demand, clutching the letter so tightly in your hand it crumples. "Then take me to Sylus immediately."
Mephisto doesn't bother arguing, as ten minutes later he's taking you to one of Sylus's many safe houses. Ignoring Luke and Kieran, you push past them and burst open the door to Sylus's room. His back is turned to you and he seems to have anticipated this reaction, so he sighs a little. But, before he can turn around and speak, you talk first, letter in hand.
"What the fuck, Sylus?!" You exclaim, furious. You wave the letter around. "Who the hell does this?! Writing a break-up letter instead of calling me or telling me face to face?!"
"Keep your voice down," He spoke in that same, arrogant tone you grew to love overtime. But now, it just feels condescending. "I have a headache."
"Oh, I'm sorry," You sarcastically retort. "Do you want me to come back at another time where I'll still be pissed off?!"
There's a beat of silence in which Mephisto softly caws and flies away, leaving you two alone in the room for the tension to boil over. You burn holes into the back of his head with your fiery gaze as the silence stretches. Until you break it.
"You're a coward, Sylus," You hiss, lowering the hand that holds the letter. The atmosphere in the room shifts, becoming cold and uptight. Sylus turns around slowly, almost as if he doesn't expect that insult coming from you of all people.
"...What?" He questions though gritted teeth, as if trying to keep himself in check. You swallow the lump in your throat and tremble slightly. Not out of fear. But of heartbreak and anger.
"You heard me loud and clear," You reply, crumpling the letter into a ball in your hand while maintaining eye contact. Even as tears well up in your eyes, you don't look away. "Only a coward would break up with their partner through a letter. I want you to say it to my face, Sylus. Tell me you're breaking up with me to. My. Face."
Sylus steps toward you until he's right in front of you. You watch as his face flickers an unreadable expression — guilt, or rage, you think — before he leans down and speaks.
"We're over," He states coolly, his tone biting and cold. Hateful, even. Your heart drops along with your tears. "Now get out."
You stare at him for a while, your expression dropping to one of slight shock before you clamp your lips together, trying oh so desperately to stop your bottom lip from wobbling.
"...Fine, I'll go," The way you speak is far from the angry tone you used. It seems more bitter now than it did before, Sylus notes. He watches as you turn and walk to the door, before you pause and look at him over your shoulder, bottom lip trembling violently as you glare at him. "But I'm not coming back. And I never want to see you again."
SLAM.
Another distant slam echoes throughout the safe house, signalling that you have left. Sylus doesn't move for the longest time, brows furrowed and eyes glued to where you once stood by the door. His chest heaves up and down, blood boiling as he remembers every inch of anguish on your face. Shaking his head, he turns and sits on the edge of his bed, busying himself with an upcoming auction.
He can't afford distractions, after all.
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❄️Zayne❄️
Your boyfriend and primary care physician is at work yet again. After meeting with him earlier for a scheduled check up, he had told you he'd most likely be home late. He also told you not to wait for him. So, what are you doing right now?
Waiting for him, of course! In your shared — yes, shared — living room, you sit on Zayne's sofa, wearing his shirt and a pair of leggings while a blanket is draped over your shoulders. You expect for him to be home by around midnight, or even past that. What you don't expect is to be so tired while waiting that you eventually pass out on the sofa.
When you wake up, you realise that the blanket has been draped over you and a figure is walking toward you, placing down a mug of coffee on the coffee table. Rubbing your eyes, you regain your senses and notice it's Zayne in front of you. You smile as you make eye contact.
"Good morning, honey," For some reason, his eyes dart away at that pet name coming from your lips. You sit up, stretching your arms before reaching for the coffee. The bitter taste awakens your taste buds once you take a sip. "...How was work? What time did you come back home in the end?"
"...It was fine," He responds dryly as he sits down on the other sofa, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers together. You take a better look at him now that he's awake; his hair is slightly messy and there are bags under his eyes. Your brows lift slightly as you grip the mug a little tighter. His eyes meet yours. "I told you not to wait for me."
His tone, not teasing, makes you freeze. It's much colder than what you are used to.
"...Well, I wanted to..." You mumble, looking at him with concern. You place the coffee down on the table again and look away briefly before speaking. "Is everything okay, Zayne? You seem tense. If it's because I waited for you, then I'm sor-"
"No," He interrupts rather quickly. His green eyes soften a little as your eyes meet again, watching as your expression shifts into confusion. "...We need to have a talk. A serious one..."
The way he speaks sounds sorrowful yet final, and that makes your heart drop just a little. You sit up a little straighter and silently urge him to go on. But what he says strikes you right where it hurts — your heart.
"...I can't keep leading you on like this," Zayne begins, hesitating as if to choose his words carefully. He's never been good at delivering bad news unless it's in a medical setting. "...Leading you to believe that my heart belongs to you, when in reality..."
When his eyes drift to yours, he stops. Dripping down your cheeks and onto the back of your hands, you silently let tears fall as you look at him with a trembling, weak smile. There's a look in your eyes that make his lips feel suddenly dry — resignation. It's like you already know what he's going to say.
"...I understand," You speak after a while, the shake of your voice hard to ignore and even harder to control with the way he was looking at you now, green eyes speaking their own apologies. You reach for his hand and he lets you take it. "Go to her, Zayne. The only thing I ever wanted for you, was happiness. So, if she's the one that will make you happy, then go to her."
Zayne's Adam's apple bobs twice, as if he's trying to swallow a heavy pill or a lump that just won't go away. He subconsciously squeezes your hand gently just before you pull away. Wiping your eyes to attempt to stop the tears from falling, you stand.
"...I'll pack my things," You say, voice just above a whisper. As you leave the room, Zayne follows, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
"Do you have a place to stay...?" He questions softly. You pause before nodding.
"I can go back to my apartment," You say. "My old roommate won't mind if I return." Zayne says nothing in response, only nodding. In silence, he watches as you carefully fold your clothes and pack everything away in bags until barely a trace of you belongings are left, apart from a few items of furniture that looked too heavy to carry.
The two of you move to the entryway of the front door, your hand reaching for you coat and putting it on along with your shoes. Gripping your bags with one hand, you reach for the door, only for Zayne to open it before you get the chance to touch the door handle.
You stare at each other for a while, as if you were both reminiscing on the time you shared together without uttering a word. Feeling your eyes brim with tears again, you make the decision to momentarily let go of your bags and wrap your arms around Zayne's waist, your head buried in his chest as you force yourself to speak your parting words.
"Thank you for putting up with me, even if it felt wrong. You were the best boyfriend I could've asked for," Your voice, albeit muffled and strained, reaches his ears as he stiffly wraps his arms around you. You feel him take a deep breath. As you pull away, you force a smile as you look at him, your arms dropping and one hand gently squeezing his hand. "Take care of yourself, yeah? Goodbye, Zayne."
Just like that, you're out the door and in your car with your bags in the backseat. He watches with a distant gaze as you drive away.
Time passes. A week. Two weeks. Three weeks. A month.
He notices you haven't showed up to any of your appointments or answered any of Akso Hospital's calls. Your disappearance is... Horrifically familiar to him. His anxiety spikes, then dips, then spikes again. Zayne can't get that look of grief and acceptance you gave him out of his mind. No matter how many times he distracts himself with work, or closes his eyes for a brief moment, you're there. Much like today.
Sitting in his office, typing away at his computer in an effort to distract himself from the civil, yet hurtful breakup, his focus shifts momentarily to that same look on your face. Haunting. Aching. The doctor takes a momentary pause to take his glasses off and pinch the bridge of his nose with a sigh of frustration. His heart, his love, doesn't belong to you. So why is it that you're haunting him with a look so powerful, it shakes his focus?
A knock at his door shifts his attention.
"Come in," He speaks, putting his glasses on and repositioning himself to make it seem like he wasn't stressing out. In walks Greyson, holding a paper in his hand. His brows crease, as if he's nervous about something. He approaches and places the paper face down on Zayne's desk, pushing it toward him slightly. "...What's this, Greyson?" Greyson swallows thickly.
"Just something for you to sign," He says, nudging the paper further towards him. "...It might be urgent to you." Zayne raises his brow, reaching for the paper and turning it over.
Rolling his chair closer, his eyes read over each word before they come to a halt, his heart sinking in his chest. So this is why he hasn't seen or heard from you. You've requested to switch back to your old doctor. Greyson watches as Zayne takes a deep breath and grabs a pen, uncapping it and letting the nib hover over the empty dotted line at the bottom.
Zayne hesitates. He knows why you're doing this and he understands completely, but the reality that this is happening hurts him more than he likes to admit. With slight hesitation, he signs the letter in agreement and hands it back to Greyson, who swiftly takes it and leaves.
Now all alone in his office, he rolls back his chair a little bit and leans, looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought as a familiar, icy chill runs down his arm.
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🍎Caleb🍎
As you stir the homemade gravy to go with the dinner you're making, your brows furrow. Your shift as a nurse for the Farspace Fleet ended two hours ago, and you've taken it upon yourself to clean up around his Skyhaven apartment and make dinner for yourself and Caleb when he gets back.
When.
He's supposed to be home in an hour, yet he's been coming home much later, seemingly avoiding your calls and texts. He says he's busy — and you get it, he's a Colonel after all — but surely he can't be so busy as to avoid his partner entirely. That's just one of the issues you have with him, but you love him regardless.
By the time he gets home, you're already plating up the food with a small hum, your back turned to him. You can sense he's stopped in his tracks for a moment as you can feel his eyes piercing through the back of your head, but the moment your gaze turns to meet his, he's gone into the bathroom and started up the shower. With a small sigh, you turn back to the food you're plating up and perfecting... While also reflecting.
Your relationship with him has been rocky for a while now — you're not even sure when the arguments started, but they've gotten worse as of late, especially since he keeps comparing every little thing you do with how Emcee does things. You just hope tonight will be a peaceful night where you don't go to sleep angry.
Just as your mind is about to be swept away by a tidal wave of negativity, your thoughts are pulled away by his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. You tense slightly. It's something he always does, yet it always catches you off guard.
"...Smells good," Caleb murmurs, his chin on the crook of your neck. He eyes the plated food in your hands before speaking again. "Looks good, too." He wants to say more, you know he does, but he doesn't. Instead, he kisses the side of your face hastily before moving to sit down at the dining table.
You murmur a stiff 'thanks' as you take the plates of food and set them down on the dining table, taking a seat across from Caleb. You picked at your food for a little bit before eating, something Caleb was quick to pick up on but do nothing about, sensing the tense atmosphere. His purple gaze lingers on the way your hair is styled this evening, a spark of familiarity in his gaze. As soon as you catch him staring, he looks away. You immediately know what — or who — he's thinking about.
Midway through your meal, you hear him hum. Cocking a brow, you look at him quizzically.
"Everything okay, Cay?" You ask, tilting your head a little. He looks at you for a moment, placing his fork down gently as he hesitates. You get a bad feeling in your stomach.
"...Yeah, it's just," He trails off, eyes trailing from your hairstyle to the food in front of him. He sighs, pushing his plate away to rest his elbows on the table, his hands covering his face as he mumbles, "Everything is reminding me of her again."
"...Are you shitting me...?" You mutter under your breath, the food on your tongue suddenly tasting awful. In contrast to how he placed his fork down, you let it drop onto the plate with a heavy sigh. You pinch your brow in frustration. "Can we please go one day, just one day, without you mentioning Emcee?"
The way he looks at you, lifting his head slowly from his hands, makes your blood freeze slightly.
"Oh, so I'm not allowed to miss her now?"
"What?! No! I never said that. You're allowed to miss her, Caleb, but you bring her up every single day," You respond, exasperated and irritated that this same argument was happening all over again. "I get it. You want to see her now more than anything else, especially after you were pronounced 'dead' — you want to surprise her. But there has to be a line somewhere in this specific relationship; a boundary. I've told you time and time again that it's okay to bring her up sometimes, but you've been doing this for months now. She's not dead, for fucks' sake--"
"Don't you fucking dare say that," Caleb abruptly gets up from the dining table, chair scraping across the floor with a harsh, echoed yell. You flinch slightly, eyes widening a bit as you hold eye contact with him. "Do you know how many nights I've gone without sleep, thinking that she was out there in danger, or worse? I think about her all the time, Y/N. All the time. It's like she's the only thing on my mind these days, and you saying shit like that truly pisses me off."
He flinches, falling back down on the chair with a hiss, one hand on his head as pain shoots through it. You rush over to him, only for him to use his Evol on you to hold you in place before you could even reach him.
"Caleb..." You whisper, concern etched onto your features and a question hanging from your lips. "...Isn't our relationship on your mind, too?" He looks at you then, hand in his hair and an unreadable look in his eyes. You swallow thickly, as if trying to gulp away the fear and anger. "...I know how much you care about Emcee and her life. But it's like you don't care about us — about our lives together. You bring her up so much that I know too much about her. We argue all the time because you're so... So obsessed with how she's doing or where she is-"
Caleb flicks his wrist, landing you as gently as he can against the wall before releasing you and stalking over. His expression is... Cold. Purple pools of hatred, is one way you could describe them. Instinctively, you lean back against the wall, as if trying to create more distance. You've never seen him this angry before, and it's rubbing off on you.
"Obsessed?" He remarks, tilting his head a little.
"...You heard me, Caleb," You respond softly, hands flexing. "Have you not thought about us? Even once?"
"No," His response is immediate as he steps closer, stopping just in front of you. The rage you've been stewing in for months, finally sets itself free. Your fists clench as you stare at him, brows furrowing and cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink. You can feel a burn behind your eyes, a wetness resting at your waterline. Urgently, you fight back tears, but he can see them clearly, his reflection mirrored in your angry, glossy gaze. His face softens a little, but before he can say anything, you move. "...Where are you going?"
You enter the bedroom and open your area of the closet, grabbing two bags and a suitcase that you haphazardly throw onto the bed. He enters just as you're packing every item you own into them. Caleb stands in the doorway, his face falling completely as he watches you stuff one item after another into the almost full suitcase. He goes to stop you, but you swivel your head to look at him.
"Stop," You hiss, trying to keep your voice steady. "Don't try to stop me, Caleb. You've done enough — said enough. I'm... I can't stay with you anymore." His heart drops.
"I..." He trails off, stepping back as you finish zipping up the last of your stuff. Grabbing your bags and suitcase, you walk past him toward the front door. He stands by you as you put your shoes and coat on, slinging one of the bags over your shoulder. He knows he fucked up when you open the door with your cut of the keys before tossing the keys to him with tears cascading down your cheeks. But he doesn't say or do anything. You knew he wouldn't, partially due to that damn chip in his head.
"We were never meant for each other, clearly," You mutter, looking at him with a sniffle. "Go and find Emcee, since she's the only thing on your mind nowadays. Maybe finding her alive and well will finally put your mind at ease and make you happy."
With those parting words, you leave his apartment, the slam of the front door echoing in the silence. Caleb's sunset eyes stick to the door like glue, brows furrowing as he glares at it. After a while, he slumps against the wall and sinks down to the ground with a sigh.
"...Fuck."
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