Narcotic (Peterick au) [completed]

THREE.

Sorry I haven't updated in like 47.3 years, I didn't realize that it's been this long. No one's reading these anyway, but I enjoy writing them. So for those of you who are reading this, enjoy? ALSO SORT OF A TRIGGER WARNING! SO I'LL JUST SAY IT WHEN IT COMES TO IT! ~katie

~Patrick's POV~
  I got up the next morning, my eyes heavy, and red. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and sat up slowly, taking a deep breath of the crisp, cold air of my room. I squinted, the light shown through my open curtains, reflecting off my strawberry brown hair. I half expected to hear scurrying around and talking from downstair, but the only sounds were my breathing and the buzz of the fan. My parents had left about a year before, and never come back. I was used to the silence, even though it still hurt to think that they didn't care about me. I sighed, running my fingers through my greasy mess of hair, as I stood up, walking to the bathroom.

Work, great. I have to talk to people.

I brushed my teeth, and pulled off my shirt.
-TRIGGER WARNING-
I stared at my stomach, I think I'll skip breakfast today. I proceeded to pull on my work uniform.

*************

I stepped in to the little coffee shop on the corner, taking a deep breath, letting the smell engulf my nose.

"Hey Patrick," said a voice from behind me.

I flinched, turning around to see my best friend Joe.

"Oh hey Joe."

"Sorry for scaring you," he laughed walking to the cash register.

"Oh, no you're fine. Just a bit tired today."

"So-" he said as he was interrupted by the bell ringing.

I turn around, my eyes probably as wide as the moon.

Him,

The boy with a black fringe, who wore too much eyeliner. Pete.

He locked eyes with me, his face flushed.

I grabbed the edge of a table, to keep myself standing and ran to sit back behind the counter.

~Pete's POV~

Th-the boy. He's here.

Oh my god, I have to apologize. But he won't want to talk to me, agh.

I should at least learn his name, I feel rude calling him 'the boy,' but that doesn't compare to what I did to him.

I walked to the counter, my hands visibly shaking.

"Uh- hi." I said playing with my fingers.

"Hi, how may I help you?" The man at the counter said.

"I- uh- was wondering if I could talk to him," I said pointing to the counter,"for a second."

"Patrick?"

Patrick? Hm. Cute.

"Y-yeah."

"Patrick," he said trying to pull him off the floor, but he wouldn't budge.

"Patrick, I-I'm sorry."

"No you aren't-" he sniffled.

"I am, I'm sorry. I- I honestly have no excuse for what I did, but I didn't mean it. I just didn't want to get beat up-"

"So, you beat me up."

"Yes, and I'm so sorry."

"It's okay I guess, I would have done the same."

He stood up, I finally got to get a good look at all his features.

He had beautiful eyes. By the way they reflected the light, I could tell he was a kind person, just by his eyes. His face was kind of chubby, which really brought his kind look together. In all honesty, he was very attractive.