minnie 𝜗𝜚

TODAY HAD TO be the worst day in history — well, for you, anyway. Just a week ago, you’d found out that your boyfriend of two years had been seeing another girl for four, which technically made you the other woman. Upon confronting him about it, he flipped the entire thing around onto you, ultimately ending the break up under the guise of ‘knowing you were seeing multiple other men’.

You were emotionally exhausted, sitting on the train by yourself with a pathetic meal deal in front of you that wasn’t even that appealing anymore.

It was late, like sundown moon out kind of late, and the train was barely occupied, just you and another guy in the compartment.

He was visibly tall and muscular, a cap on his head and his nose buried into his phone. You weren’t glancing at him too much, trying not to appear like a total freak, but he was very attractive. He had facial hair framing his mouth that looked rough and coarse, and his hand smothered his phone.

You took the same approach that he did, using your device as a distraction. However, every time you went on it, you were reminded of your just-turned ex.

Old snap memories from a year ago, Instagram highlights, old wallpapers that you had saved to your phone, ancient text messages from your parents about whether he was coming for tea.

It made tears well in your eyes, and you let out a little wet sniffle, wiping them as they fell and leaving your phone face down, resting your head on the window.

That was a bad call.

You should’ve kept your phone open, so you had an excuse to ignore the weird man that had added himself to the carriage with you and the other passenger, but you hadn’t.

His posture was awful, and he reeked of must and other unpleasantries.

The entire carriage was empty, apart from the table opposite you, of course, and he still decided to sit next to you.

You shut your eyes, trying to focus on the music blaring in your ears, but his presence lingered like a bad omen.

You could feel him fidgeting next to you, like he had an unstoppable itch. It made you uncomfortable, because you could never predict his next move.

His voice carried, appearing over the noise of your music.

He was talking to you, but you were ignoring him.

“Oi!” He exclaimed, two fingers touching the side of your head and knocking it to the side.

Eyes shooting open, you clutched everything tighter to yourself; your phone, your airpod case, the jacket wrapped around you.

Your eyes were wide with panic and fear, and you slowly removed one airpod, not wanting him to react physically again.

“What? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” You tried being polite, your voice small and meek.

“‘Coz you’ve got your headphones in you daft bint!” He laughed obnoxiously, “Wanna give me your number?”

“Um …”

Your eyes darted around, catching sight of the other man across the aisle.

He still had his eyes trained on his phone, headphones on too, but you could tell he wasn’t really listening to anything. Like he’d turned his music down to hear the commotion without truly acknowledging it.

He was alert and aware, but not engaged.

“No, I have a boyfriend, sorry.”

“Oh, so what? You prudish? Come onnnn.” He groaned. “Wanna go bathroom?”

“No, thank you.”

“No? Why fucking not?”

“Wh— I— I just said, I have a boyfriend.” You spluttered, feeling tears burn in your eyes from fear, your hands trembling on the table in front of you.

“Like you girls care. All you lot always going out.” He laughed, reaching a hand out and grazing a finger under your chin.

“Please don’t.” You curled in on yourself.

“Oi, mate.” The man across the aisle finally spoke up, “Leave her alone, yeah?”

The relief that flooded your body was insurmountable.

“What? Who are you?”

“Does it matter? Just leave her alone. She clearly doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“You’ve got some right cheek talking to me like that, why don’t you fuck off?” The creep's voice was beginning to increase in volume, and someone at the complete other end of the carriage had gotten up and disappeared through the sliding doors.

“Nah, come on, get up.” He slid out of his own chairs, gesturing for the man to stand and leave, “You’re making her uncomfortable. Go.”

“Bro, she clearly wants it.”

“No, she doesn’t. Get up. Leave.”

“What’s your name? What’s your name?”

“Alfie?”

“Alfie, yeah? Fuck off.” He suddenly swung an arm over your shoulders, making you writhe in an attempt to get him off of you, “Trynna enjoy—“

You weren’t expecting Alfie to react physically, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved when he latched his hands around the fellas jacket and yanked him off of his seat.

It did startle you, but you settled fairly quickly when it clicked to you that the man’s stale existence had gotten further away from you.

“Get out.” Alfie sneered, pushing the man away.

“Do you wanna fucking go?!” He shouted, causing an entire scene.

Alfie stayed pointing to the train doors. The outside world was slowly coming to a halt as the train prepared for pulling into the station.

He was quick to grab his belongings and put them in the overhead space next to your suitcase and sit down in the seat next to you.

“Oh, I get it.” The tramp began cackling, “You wanna have a go too? That’s fine, leave some for me after, mate.”

Your skin crawled at the objectifying, disgusting manner in which he spoke about you as if you weren’t right there. Or maybe that’s why he was saying it, because he knew you were right there.

“Seriously, shut the fuck up and fuck off.” Alfie snapped, his patience wearing thin.

He was a large man in stature and presence. Now that he was speaking and not taking up a singular seat in the carriage, his occupancy was blatant and loud, fighting against the obnoxious behaviour of another male.

Thankfully, the person that had left the carriage previously, had returned with a train conductor and security officer, who began to take control of the situation, and escort the man off of the train when it finally came to a stop.

You witnessed him being put in cuffs out of the window. He was still shouting and kicking as he went, throwing degrading phrases in your direction, and even going as far to spit at the window.

You flinched, like it could magically get through the glass and land on you.

“Hey, you okay?” Alfie then asked, drawing your attention away from the outside world and the peace that had now settled in the carriage.

“Yeah, um, thanks.” You smiled, your voice breaking from emotion, “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“It’s alright.” He shook his head, “He was a fucking creep. I’d be a little upset too.” He smiled, trying to add some lightness to the situation.

“Well, thanks for, yknow …”

“Obviously. I weren’t gonna let him treat you like that.” Alfie said, “… Do you want me to stay here? Or I can move back?”

“Oh, no, you’re okay here if you want.” You shook your head, “Don’t feel like you have to move because of me.”

“I just … didn’t wanna make you feel any worse.” He shrugged, settling into the seat beside you. “What’s your name?”

“Reader.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Alfie, but—“

“Yeah, I know.”

“Cool.” He clicked his tongue, nodding and hesitating to speak before committing to it, “Are you okay? Like, before this all happened? You were crying already.”

“Oh, um, yeah … My boyfriend broke up with me today so I’m going back up to stay with my parents for a bit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He frowned, “That sucks. Um … his loss?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Well, you are stunning, so it is his loss.”

You blinked at him for a moment, stunned by his words, and the blunt, forward nature he’d said them in.

“Shit, sorry.” His cheeks went bright red, “I didn’t mean to come across like that.”

You smiled softly, a little flushed yourself, “It’s okay. You’re not too bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, displaying his sharp fangs for canines, “Cheers, girl.”

You continued to share cheeky, shy smiles with each other for the rest of the journey until you had to get off a couple stops before.

“Do you want my Instagram?” He blurted out suddenly.

You paused, turning back around to him, “Sorry?”

“My Instagram. Do … Do you want it? It’s no worries if not, really, I just thought I’d shoot my shot—“

“Yeah, go on then.” You nodded, handing him your phone.

Thankfully, he finished up just in time for you to step off the train, waving bye to him through the window before glancing down at your phone.

Alfie Buttle.

Jesus, he had quit the following already. And he was verified?

You got a notification of him following you back, and sending a swift message.

alfiebuttle: let us know when you get back x

yourusername: okay x

“that is a fucking joke!”

were the first words that left your mouth once you got within the warmth of your shared london apartment.

alfie was sat on the sofa, having a podcast on the tv as background noise while he edited his vlog. he looked up from the laptop screen to get a glimpse of you, only to burst out laughing.

“it’s not funny, alfie! this is ridiculous!”

you were drenched, head to toe. the ends of your hair were dripping, as were your sleeves and your shoes made an awful squelching noise with every step you took.

the worst part was that you’d only just had a shower before you left, and you now undoubtedly stunk of rain water.

“oh, poor you.” he pouted fakely, making you scowl.

you took your coat off and then shook it in his direction, causing droplets to splatter onto him.

“nah, reader, fuck off! my laptop, man!”

“see! not nice, is it?!” you huffed, hanging it up on a hook before standing there and trying to think of what to do first.

“shoes off and get in the shower.” alfie decided for you, noticing the dilemma in your eyes.

“yeah, good shout. join me?”

“sounds good.” he shut his laptop immediately.