W e a k n e s s [Peterick AU] - #Wattys2016

#11- I T r u s t e d Y o u

Pete's POV

He was so fucking talented; I didn't expect a small guy like him could have such a powerful voice.

"Your voice is great", I let these words slip out of my mouth. Now it was his turn to blush: "Nah, it isn't"

"Yes, it is", I hissed, my hands clenched in a fist. I realized I had kinda overreacted when Patrick stepped back and watched me in surprise: "... Thank you"

I felt my muscles relax as I tilted my eyes away, far from his gaze.

We kept trying songs together until late afternoon; I was having fun, to be honest, and he was as well. We were having two slightly different kinds of fun, though: he was happy because he had managed to make me feel comfortable, while I was having fun because, step by step, I was getting closer to complete my mission; my purpose was to become important for him, to always be around him, so, when it was the time... BOOM, I would have slit his throat. I loved betraying people, and watching them die with that disappointed look on their faces, hearing them pronounce those three simple but meaningful words: "I trusted you"

"Well...", Patrick muttered scratching the back of his neck "I'm hungry, and I guess you are, too, so I'm gonna make some sandwiches"

I nodded and, in the meantime, my eyes landed on a little frame; it was a photo of Patrick and his parents. They seemed happy together. I sighed, thinking about my relationship with my father.

"I'm back! I've just made a couple... what are you doing?"

"I was watching a picture... do you get along with your parents?"

"Yes", he lowered his head "I did"

"Oh", I whispered. After a few seconds I realized something: I wasn't pleased to hear that. Somehow I felt... sad for him.

No, wait.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Yes. I loved them to death. And a fucking asshole took them from me"

I stayed silent, with a tight, throbbing feeling in my throat.

"I hate the fact that many people kill just to have fun or for money, without stopping for a moment to think about the person they're going to kill, about how painful the loss of a friend, or a son... a parent... would be"

"Maybe...", I mumbled "maybe it's because those people hate everything and everyone. Because they had some pretty bad experiences that led them to do horrible things. Just for... I don't know... revenge"

"I think firmly that all the possible excuses in the world wouldn't be enough to justify the murder of an innocent person"

I felt rage and guilt burn into my body, rising more and more. What if I was the fucking asshole who had killed his parents?

"Hey, you okay?", Patrick asked all of sudden.

"Yes. I'd just like to change subject"

"Sure. Yeah, maybe it's better for us both...", he whispered lowering his head.

We ate our sandwiches and Patrick offered to drive me home. While we were in the car we talked about random things; how could that dude be so friendly? He always had something to say.

"So... here we are", he sighed tapping his hands on the steering wheel, then he got out with me "Well... I had really fun today; maybe we should try to play something together again"

"Tomorrow is Saturday. If you don't have to work, we can meet again"

"Yeah, that would be great! I'm not working tomorrow, but we won't be able to stay at my house. What if I come to yours?"

"Uh...", I stuttered.

My house is full of creepy shit, we just can't stay there... what if he founds my knives, and my book, and all that stuff? Okay, okay, okay... I'll hide everything. Don't panic.

"Y-yeah. Maybe. Okay, we can stay here tomorrow"

A half smile formed on his face: "Perfect, thank you. Then... see you tomorrow, Pete"

As he patted my shoulder, I noticed something on his right arm; I immediately grabbed it, without giving him time to pull it back. I watched his smile fade when he realized I was going to unbutton the sleeve of his jacket: cuts. Five red cuts on his pale skin.

I widened my eyes and my mouth almost dropped as I unconsciously traced my fingers along the dark marks. I raised my head to look him in the eyes, his expression confused and scared, then just sad.

"Why did you do this?", I asked.

"Remember when I said smiles are like weapons? Well... words, instead, are knives and often leave scars. My smiles are more like... shields, and sometimes they help me cover those scars caused by words. They hide what I don't want people to see and what I wanna forget"

I shook my head in confusion: "What words are you talking about?"

Silence. Patrick was running away with eyes full of tears and guilt. Without saying a word, he started the engine and speeded away.

*Author's Note*

Yeah so uhm hi. Hope you liked the chapter °w° andddd I have nothing else to say so BYEEE

Dreammaker_222