Stars, Hide Your Fires [Peterick]

The Air Speaks Of All The Memories. It Won't Trouble Me

Pete

I pulled away from Patrick. I had only known this boy for less than a day, but I can feel this unspoken bond between us, something that binds us to one another. It is a feeling I can't deny.

"Patrick?" I spoke softly, my voice cutting through the air.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for helping me. I mean, I can't thank you enough. You are a complete stranger and you have the heart to help me. It means alot to me that you are doing all this."

"You are welcome. But if I didn't help you, then who would've? And there is no need to thank me. We aren't strangers, we're friends. And helping eachother is what friends do. Okay?"

I nodded and turned to take a seat on my bed. I looked at Patrick who only stared back at me.

"Do you want to go get breakfast or something?" I said, looking away once I had realized I had been staring at him.

"Yeah, sure. Do your arms hurt? I could get you some Tylenol before we go." He said, walking up to me and placing his thumb and forefinger on my chin before turning my head so that I was looking at him.

"N-no. I think I'm o-okay." I stuttered and stammered as I looked into his eyes.

I could feel his moving closer as I too, leaned in. I ran my fingers through his hair and twirled a piece of it between my fingers. I finally, after many thoughts clouding my brain, got the guts and kissed him softly before quickly pulling away.

"Oh my God. I am so sorry. You are probably straight and you are a friendly stranger and we barley know eachother-"

"It's okay. I'm bi. And we can start over, take it slow." He smiled at me with his cheeks dusted with light pink and red.

"Okay." I whispered, revaluating and overthinking the whole situation.

"Pete?" Patrick's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Stop over thinking it and get dressed so we can go get breakfast. "

I nodded and started to get dressed as he did. I placed my clothes in the dirty laundry and pulled on my shoes as Patrick made his way to the door.

"I really like you." I blurted out, looking over Patrick's small figure.

A smile crept across his face. "What?"

I quickly covered my mouth in shock that I said something like that outloud.

Patrick, with a smile still on his face, walked over and took my hands off of my mouth and held them in his.

"You like me?" He said, rubbing his fingers over the back of my hands.

I didn't say anything, I just nodded. Embaressment rushed over me as he giggled a bit and continued to rub his fingers over my hands.

"Okay. That's good because I think I like you too. But t let's take it slow, you know, start out as friends for more than a day."

Patrick

Pete Wentz likes me. Chubby and weird ass me. This is too good to be true. A boy actually likes me and it's not out of pity or sympathy.

I thought to myself as I let go of Pete's hands. I didn't want to rush into this unspoken and undefined connection we shared because I was terrified of getting hurt. And by how the way Pete is overthinking this, he might be too.

But my biggest fear was hurting Pete more than he had already been or has been. I was mortified that if I was to hurt him so soon in this relationship, he would do more than just a few cuts across his wrists beacuse according to him, I am the only one willing to help him. And I sure as hell don't want this boy to be the one that slipped through my hands and faded away.