Chapter Text
He's alone in Sven's office, though he doesn't remember going there. The lights are off, but there's some light filtered through the slightly opened blinds.
The door opens behind him, and Sven walks in. When he sees Burt, his expression remains neutral, as if unsurprised to see him there.
"Oh, why are you standing in the dark?"
He opens the blinds, then sits down at his desk, flipping open some of the files. Burt plops down next to him, leaning against him.
Burt feels strange, kind of floaty, but he doesn't really acknowledge it. They sit in silence, listening to some birds chirp outside. It's peaceful in a way, but he can't shake the thought that he should be feeling uneasy.
Sven hums quietly, something Burt had noticed after they started working in the same office for convenience. It's cute, and he likes to listen to him.
For some reason, he stops leaning on Sven and turns to him, which makes Sven stop humming and look at him. His expression is still neutral, though Burt can see his eyebrows creasing slightly.
"What's up?"
"I…I like you. More than a friend."
Burt raises his eyebrow at himself. This doesn't seem right, but he just accepts it. He wonders what he ate the night before that is causing him to act like this.
Sven is looking at him weirdly. He doesn't mind, he can always play it off as a joke.
Then Sven laughs hysterically, almost mockingly, causing Burt to lean out of the way, concerned.
He takes a long time to calm down, but finally stops after a few chuckles. He stares at Burt with a disgusted look, in disbelief.
"You really—Why on earth would I, or anyone else for that matter, ever want to be with you?"
Burt shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, eyes darting everywhere but Sven's face. He grips the edge of the chair furiously, his heart quickening.
"I-I just—I'm sorry, it was just a joke."
Sven scoffs, reaching forward and forcefully making Burt look into his eyes.
"You're an emotionless prat. No one would want someone as pathetic and useless as you."
Oh.
He is pushed back, and he tumbles onto the floor. There's an awful sensation of falling and he jerks up violently.
He's in his bed. He's in his room.
It's 4:33am
He feels absolutely terrible and he doesn't want to move. He simply sits there with a stone face.
The alarm clock rings on the nightstand next to his bed.
It's 6:00am
Resisting the urge to smash it to bits, he turns the alarm off, breathing in and out deeply instead.
Then throws his pillow across the room. It hits the door and flops sadly on the ground.
He can't help but give a despondent chuckle. What an apt description of his life.
He sighs and finally allows himself to think of that shitty dream. Or was it a nightmare? He didn't know.
Sven would never say that to him, Burt tries to convince himself. If he rejected him, it would be a lot less harsh, with a lot more Swedish curse words.
Though those swear words wouldn't be directed at Burt, because he never cusses Burt out with malicious intent, only playfully during their banter.
Groaning, he runs his hands through his hair and forces himself off the bed. It feels like it's going to be a bad day.