Refugee (a Petekey story)

Chapter seven

A/N. Alright guys, please try not to kill me. I edited this chapter like, once, so I'm sorry for all the mistakes. I know it's been forever, but things have been kinda bad lately so I have been putting off writing this chapter. So yeah. 

Also, I would just like to thank everyone who is reading this because I know I'm not a great author, and it really means a lot to me when you comment (I'm talking to you, friend). Literally, it just makes my day and makes me smile and yeah, thank you thank you so much for that. 

 

Enough sappiness. (Is that even a word?) Have a chapter. 

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“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Admittedly, this probably wasn’t the best thing to open up a conversation with. Normally, when Mikey got home from work, he would nod and make small conversation the three boys waiting up for him before send everyone straight to bed. This time, though, Pete followed him into the room he shared with Lindsey, determined to get everything off his mind.

He had learned lessons and ideas from that conversation he had with his parents at the cafe a few days before. Things he had no idea about before- likw how the world didn’t stop for anyone, and how Patrick was right about needing to tell others what's on your mind. Keeping something as powerful and yet fragile like this inside would kill him one day, and really. Letting it out could only make things better from here, seeing as everyone and everything currently in the apartment was messed up in one way or another.

“I’m sorry?” The reply was cautious and slightly more calm than Pete expected. He had expected a glare, maybe a frown and a ask to leave the apartment. But all he got from Mikey was the same old poker face and a confused look in his eye.

Pete ignored the urge to sit down and breathe for a moment. There were things he wanted to say, things that he wanted to yell out to the whole entire world. But for now, he could settle with just telling Mikey.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Despite all the time he had spent before this moment, practicing what to say and how to say it, he could barely force the words out of his throat. They were dry, lacking in taste and clarity. But they were so brutally honest that Pete had to take a mental step back and assess the fact that this was actually happening to him, he was actually doing something he never thought he would have the balls to do.

“Why do you say that?” Mikey sat down lightly in his bed, toeing off his shoes in a slightly disorganized fashion. Lindsey was sleeping only a few feet away, belly bulging with the almost born baby, and Pete knew that anything above a whisper would wake her and inevitably the rest of the house up.

“You’re smart.” Pete tried to think, think of all the things he had been wanting to say for all this time of silence. “You’re clever. You like music.” The words he wanted, the words he needed, were not coming out. They got stuck in his throat and on his tongue and in his mind and he could practically see this moment running away from him, never to be found again.

“Really.” Mikey wasn’t amused. If anything, he looked more exhausted that he did before. Pete knew he had two jobs, and that raising this messed up almost-family was not something to take lightly, but this was his chance, and he felt like he would die if Mikey went to sleep tonight without finally hearing the truth.

“No, actually, not really.” Pete wanted to clap his hands over his mouth and keep himself from saying something else as equally stupid that he didn’t really mean to say. But there were things that would get him what he wanted, and then there was the honest truth. And if there was one thing he had learned over the past few weeks, it was that his life was only going to last for so long, and no one would remember you after. Taking this chance was like taking the one with his parents, and every chance before that. It had to be for him, or it wouldn’t be worth anything.