He handed you your drink, accidentally touching your hand.
BAM.
Electricity. It flowed through you both like lightening.
You felt the common sense leaving your body; he made you tingle and he didnt even mean to.
Could you imagine how good it would feel if he was trying to make you tingle? a flush of red colours your cheeks as your mind wanders.
You looked at Patrick. He was looking at your hand, nervously smiling.
You still felt the warmth of his touch on your hand, so you look down to where your hand is.
His hand was still on yours, rubbing your fingers gently with his. You slide your pinky up and down his, mimicking his movements. He chuckles and it startles you a little.
"Your hands are soft, (Y/N)." he whispers to you, still smiling.
"Thanks" you blush. "So are yours".
You look into his eyes; a deep pool of blue. He looks up, and his eyes meet yours.
Did he feel the spark too? Is it all in your mind? "Oh boy, I'm in trouble" you think to yourself.
You're caught in a gaze, when the moment is interrupted by Pete and Joe cradling a bottle.
"TEQUILAAAAAAAA!" Joe screams as he squeezes himself in the small space seperating you with Patrick. He swings one arm around Patrick, and the other around you. You push your head forward and look at Patrick; he's doing the same and laughing.
Pete stands infront of the three of you, observing, trying to peer the bottle from Joe's hand.
"It's a beautiful night! Lets go" he tells you as he struts towards the back door, stepping outside. Confused and a little intrigued, you, Patrick and Pete follow him into the back yard.
Whoah! When did everyone take the party outside? How did they all walk past the kitchen to get out here without you even realising? How long were you and Patrick actually talking for - hours?!
You glance over at Patrick, and you can tell he was thinking the same. He stood still, twiddling his fingers together and biting his bottom lip as he watched everyone get increasingly drunk. Ugh - why was this man so adorable?
"DORK! Come on!" Pete screams at you as he grabs your arm and heads for the dancing crowd.
From the corner of your eye, you glance in Patrick's direction. His eyes followed you to where Pete dragged you. You'd much rather dance with him; many times before you've been held hostage to Pete's drunken dancing. You've seen him do some weird shit.
"SHAWTY GET LOW LOW LOW LOW" He screaches to the song as he begins to put Miley Cyrus to shame and twerks like nobodys business. You laugh at him uncontrollably, so much that your tummy gets sore and you fall back onto the bench behind you where Joe sat; still cradling his tequila.
"(Y/N)! Groupie!" he greets you, pointing the tip of the bottle in your direction
"Heeeeey" you say as you both laugh.
"So. Sup with you and Patrick?" he bluntly asks. You feel a flush of red to your cheeks. Again.
"Uh...." words fail you.
"(Y/N). I'm drunk, not blind." he pauses, and chuckles in your ear. "Go on girl. Go get him" he says as he winks at yoy and pushes you to your feet, knocking you into drunken Pete still twerking for dear life.
"DORK! SHAKE YO BOOTY!" He screams at you and reaches for your arm, but you manage to wriggle away and find yourself half way up the back yard. You look ahead at the drunken madness you escaped. You didnt drink much and you didnt party much either, so you were happy to be away from it. Your eyes scan the crowd; Patrick was nowhere to be seen. You sigh.
He is so handsome, and he is the nicest guy you've ever met. And now he's gone, wherever he is.
Your mind drifts off to the conversations you shared in the kitchen. His dimpled smile, the way he laughs using his whole upper body, the look in his eyes when he's paying attention to you talk. There was not one thing you didnt like about him. Was he even real?
You turn around to look behind you at Pete's garage shed. The light inside was on. That's strange.
You knew that the key was hid under the flower pot. This shed was the one his band helped him build a year ago. Pete decorated the shed to be his "chillax room" complete with central heating, a wall length sofa bed and bean bag, a stocked mini fridge, a small DVD-combi TV, a work desk for writing music, and fairy lights all around the top of the walls. It was the cutest little hide out.
"Curiosity killed the cat" you whispered to yourself as you walk towards the shed.
You kneel down to pick up the pot; the key was gone.
You open the door...
