𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗟𝗨𝗘, 𝙅𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙖𝙢

𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 - 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥

Chapter Twelve - Split Bill
July 2023 - Madrid
MOMENTS LATER

❤︎︎ ❤︎︎ ❤︎︎

-Angelina-

"WE'RE SPLITTING THE BILL."

Jude and I eventually finished our food around an hour ago, yet weirdly, that didn't encourage either of us to leave. We've been talking non-stop ever since, learning things about one another as the concept of time faded away. Only when we noticed no one else remained in the restaurant did we consider that perhaps we needed to leave; we looked a bit strange in an empty restaurant, and all the staff could hear our conversations.

However, even though we have agreed to leave, we haven't been successful in exiting the restaurant yet—mostly because a certain someone keeps arguing with me over the bill.

Jude is insisting on paying for the entire bill, and I'm insisting that we split it.

I think my proposition is more reasonable. We don't know each other too well, and this is the first time we've gone out together, so it seems only right that we share the weight of the bill. I know he's a footballer, and the price of dinner is probably very insignificant to him, but morals and money are two very different things. I refuse to go against my morals just because he has a fair amount of money.

"No, we're not," Jude argues, pushing away the card I've been trying to give to him. "I invited you, therefore, I'll pay for you."

"You invited me, but I came, so I can pay for my half, and you can pay for yours." I counter, hoping he can understand my logic.

He dismisses me with a shake of his stubborn head, pulling out his card from his phone case as he waves off mine. "You can, but I'm not letting you."

"Please?" I pout, clasping my hands together on the table. "I'll feel terrible if I don't."

I don't want him to pay for me—why should he? What have I done to deserve it? Nothing. Therefore, it makes the most sense for us to pay half the bill.

"Angie." Jude leans forward, noticing my discomfort. He folds his arms on top of one another on the table, a sincere look in his eyes. "I'm not being funny; this bill is like 2p to me; you don't need to feel bad."

"Well, it's like 1p to me." I lie playfully, throwing my hands up in the air. He grants me an amused but distrusting look, quirking an eyebrow at my comment. Knowing he doesn't buy my joke, I sulk back into my chair, desperation plaguing my features. "Please, just let me pay for my half."

"Nope."

I huff in frustration, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. There's a pleased grin on his face as I terminate my objections, but I don't pay attention to his cocky expression. Instead, I avert my gaze elsewhere, refusing to give him any satisfaction as my eyes fall on our waiter. He's busy at the bar, preparing an order that's being picked up for delivery, and an idea suddenly springs to mind.

Jude and I haven't actually asked for the bill yet, and technically, no one has to pay at their table. Hypothetically speaking, one could go over and pay at the bar that Jude just so happens to have his back to. One could do that quite easily.