Running Home

Wesley

Author's Note:

Hey guys! I know I'm late- 3 weeks, I know, I know- but school started up for me last week, and I've been adjusting a ton plus the suddenness of getting used to homework again. I'm sincerely sorry for my tardiness.

My normal update day is Saturday, so hopefully I'll be able to get back on schedule!

This chapter is Wes's POV, in case you were confused by the chapter title. It'll still be first person; don't freak out on me.

This is partially a fluff chapter. I know there hasn't been that much fluffy fluff, just mainly character bonding. This is actual fluff, and I promise I tried to drag it out into the most fluff I could. (Side note- we need another word for fluff. I say it too often.)

Thanks for reading! Please comment and vote. Have fun and enjoy!

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My morning started out fine. I woke up to a quiet alarm- Leo had figured out how to manually hack the volume. Without bothering to change into real clothes, I slid on some slippers and lumbered down the hall to Patrick's room in my pajama pants and a cotton tee shirt.

I knocked twice on his door but didn't wait for a reply before walking in. He was still sleeping, and he was in the funniest, cutest position. Patrick was laying flat on his stomach with his head in his pillow. I heard a muffled snore, and unsuccessfully suppressed a laugh.

"Shut up," he mumbled, turning his head to face me.

He blinked his eyes a few times to get used to the lights, and then gave me a half-smile. I tried to drag him out of bed, but the plan backfired on me. He grabbed my hands and pulled me on to the bed with him. I landed mainly next to him but also partially on top.

"It was almost sad how little effort that took," he grinned.

I swatted at him and missed, thanks to my ambisinister-ness. I had some problems with coordination in everyday tasks. I attempted to sit up, but he relentlessly yanked back down. I gave up when my arm started to hurt.

"You're cruel. You're also in charge of Wren today again," I said.

"Damn it, not again," he muttered. "I wanted a day off to relax with you."

"Today's orientation-slash-instruction day anyways," I informed him.

"Can't we skip it? I'm tired."

"Sorry, nope. However, it is only 6 am."

"Why the actual hell did you wake me up so early?" he exclaimed.

I elbowed him slightly. No reaction except for a confused look followed by a peck on the forehead.

"We need to talk about this," I stated.

"Can't we just ignore everything and not talk about it?" he asked.

"I think we both know that doesn't work, sorry to burst your bubble."

He groaned and kissed my forehead again before getting up. I sat up on the bed and talked to his back while he threw on a sweatshirt and jeans.

"You know what happened. I know what happened. What more do we need?"

"Closure, maybe?" I suggested.

"Closure is overrated. Come kiss me," he said, pulling me up off of the bed.

He wrapped his arms around my neck and tried to draw me in for a kiss, but I still needed to talk to him. Usually he was the well-organized, efficient one, but he seemed to be becoming more and more impulsive. I rested my forehead against his and looked down.