(BL)Alpha Made-Chapter 212: A nervous wreck

Andrew didn’t have time to respond, his mouth opening as the server arrived.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Maxwell ordered a tea, also unlike Maxwell, and the two were given some more time to talk.

Andrew, now able to respond to Maxwell, gripped his hand.

"Have you really been thinking about that this whole time?" Andrew asked carefully and Maxwell swallowed thickly.

"Of course. I...I really did a horrible job trying to talk to you. I was just so...I was so worried that I just..." Maxwell let out a shaky sigh, running his hand over his face. He looked like he was the one who’d gone on a bender, not Andrew. He looked at Andrew, his blue eyes big, serious, and wet. "I’ll do anything. I’ll change anything you don’t like. Just, please don’t leave me, Andrew. I can’t live without you." Andrew felt his eyes widen as the first tear fell from his face.

Panic filled him, and Andrew pushed his chair back loudly, coming around to be in front of Maxwell as he continued to cry.

"The house doesn’t feel like a house without you there. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t make these things clear. That I didn’t say anything. It’s your house too. It was always your house. I never dated you out of duty. It was never that." Andrew was shocked as Maxwell’s shoulders shook and he weakly squeezed Andrew’s hand. With his other, he used the back of his hand to wipe his blue eyes as the tears continued to pour. "I said that it was a lot of work because it was! It was a lot of work to keep it hidden that I liked you while you were in another relationship, and I’m not a woman! What if you only liked them?" Maxwell was practically wailing, and even with their private room, Andrew worried that someone else would hear them.

"Maxwell, it’s okay. You don’t need to-" Maxwell shook his head stubbornly.

"No! I do need to! I don’t want you to think I don’t care about you! I care so much about you, I was worried that you wouldn’t like me back as much as I liked you first. I wanted you to be wrapped around my finger first. I wanted you to be so hopelessly in love with me you’d forget about all of my flaws." Andrew’s heart broke when he heard that from Maxwell’s mouth.

He shook off Maxwell’s hand, and Maxwell looked devastated for a moment before Andrew reached up, cupping Maxwell’s face on either side.

"Max, why would you say that about yourself? Wasn’t I in love with you enough?" Andrew asked and Maxwell’s face twisted. The makeup he’d put on was already ruined by his tears, and Andrew could see how bad he actually was doing. He looked ill. Very ill.

"N-No, you weren’t. You won’t mark me, and even if I know with my brain that you have some fucked up ideas about marking, you don’t need to say it, I can see it, my heart doesn’t agree. It’s a me problem. I didn’t want to burden you with it." Andrew felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest.

Maxwell had always known that Andrew had a hang up about markings, and had, in his own way, resigned himself to the fact that he would never be marked. But in the process of that, he had worked himself up enough to believe in some way that it was because Andrew didn’t love him enough? It was such a weird jump, that Andrew wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

"It’s not just a you problem, Max. Not if...not if it hurt you this much." Maxwell shook his head.

"No. Stop. I hurt you more. Let me apologise. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. Don’t leave me. Please. I can’t-I can’t live without you anymore. I don’t know what to do with myself. Without you, I can’t function. No, wait. You shouldn’t feel-fuck. I’m sorry. You aren’t responsible for my actions. You don’t-I don’t want you to feel like it’s your duty to date me." Maxwell looked like he was going to throw up after saying those words, and Andrew looked around in a panic.

Thinking quickly, he unfolded the napkin meant for your lap when you ate and held it out. Maxwell fought it, before he ended up ducking his head, retching into the false basket that Andrew made.

"I’m sorry." Maxwell croaked, not well, but Andrew felt like his heart was breaking. He had never meant to reduce this man to basically nothing. Richard had told him he wasn’t doing well, but he hadn’t told him how unwell he was. Maxwell gasped, raising panicking blue eyes to him. "I-I’m not pregnant! I’m not trying to-" Andrew closed the napkin, wrapping it tightly in his fist so that nothing would spill out before he grabbed the napkin from his side of the table and wiped at Maxwell’s lips.

"It’s okay. I trust that you wouldn’t try to do that again. It’s fine Maxwell. You are clearly tired, overworked, and anxious. It’s okay. I’m...I’m not planning to break up with you." More tears began to pour from Maxwell’s eyes.

"Really?" He whispered and Andrew nodded. Maxwell hung his head, his shoulder shaking. "Oh thank god." Maxwell sobbed into his hands, and Andrew heard the door behind them open. Clearly, the server was shocked and Andrew turned from where he was crouched before Maxwell’s sobbing form.

"Would we be able to get a few new napkins, please?" Andrew asked carefully, and the wide-eyed server nodded, turning back without dropping off the tea that Maxwell had ordered. It was only a few moments later that they came back with several napkins, and a tray. Andrew wrapped Maxwell’s stomach contents, which felt worryingly light, and then placed it on the tray. The server reset the table while Maxwell slowed down his crying slowly. He looked like a mess, his eyes puffy, his makeup a mess, and Andrew felt a soft tenderness touch him.

"I’m going to go wash my hands up, and then I plan to have dinner with you here. I did, after all, bring you here to share the food with you here, not to break up with you, alright? I’m not running away, just going to the bathroom." Andrew would have felt ridiculous speaking to Maxwell like this a week ago, but the man felt delicate, fragile.

Maxwell nodded, sniffing as he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hands.

"Could you bring me some tissues when you come back?" Maxwell asked weakly, and Andrew smiled softly, nodding. He wanted to touch him, comfort him, but with his hands full of...things, he wanted to wash them before he did.

Andrew stood, leaving the private room where the server was waiting outside anxiously.

"Is everything alright?" They asked and Andrew let out a slow exhale.

"It will be. I promise, nothing...terrible is happening." Andrew told them. "Um, where is the washroom?" He asked next and the server pointed him in a direction. Thankfully, he didn’t have to pass the women who were staring holes into him, and he was able to wash his hands, find Maxwell some tissues and shove them into his pocket, before racing back to the small room he had reserved.

Maxwell was in much the same state as when he’d left, only now he had a cup of tea before him.

"The waiter asked if I needed to call the police." Maxwell blurted, and Andrew was surprised. At the same time, he was happy that the service staff was keeping an eye on their situation. Andrew chuckled as he approached, pulling tissues out of his pocket and wiping under Maxwell’s eyes.

"What did you say?" He asked and Maxwell sniffed.

"I told them we were just messy." He said quietly, and Andrew felt his smile cross his face.

"Just messy, hmm? I guess that would make sense. You look about as bad as I probably did a few days ago." Andrew told him and Maxwell swallowed.

"A-Andrew, do you have a-"

"Probably." Andrew answered his question without letting him finish it. "It’s...complicated." Andrew told him, his smile bitter. "I...It’s not something I feel comfortable talking about right now, and honestly, we have a lot more to talk about then that." Maxwell bit his lip, his expression bare, exposed.

"I think we should." He whispered, and Andrew’s heart squeezed. He dropped his hand, and Maxwell looked up at him, petrified. Andrew, however, was just trying to stabilize himself.

"I just...it’s hard for me to talk about. I don’t talk about it. May didn’t even ask me to." Maxwell watched Andrew’s hard expression, his eyes searching his face.

"Okay." He agreed, and Andrew felt like an asshole. The man was trying to make up for his mistakes, everything he’d said wrong, and yet Andrew was the one putting up a barrier.

"I’m sorry Max. it’s just too hard, too fresh to talk about. If I hadn’t fallen back into old habits, I might have been able to, but..." Andrew sighed, shaking his head. "I can’t. It’s hard to. Same way I can’t...I have a hard time talking about my father." Andrew admitted and Maxwell’s expression shifted. He didn’t look as scared anymore, and instead looked sympathetic. He tentatively reached out to Andrew, and his hesitancy killed Andrew inside.

He’d fucking done that. He’d made Maxwell nervous, anxious, and Maxwell was the one trying to repair everything on his own. Andrew couldn’t let that happen.