imagines | p.s.

snap

tygsm for 3K reads!! aaa!! that's so many!!

this chapter isn't smut, either. it's pretty much just fluff. it's really short and bad, though :( enjoy anyways, I hope

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You were curled up in one corner of the couch, relaxing with a book and the Breakfast Club playing on the television screen in front of you. You were paying more attention to the movie than your book, but no matter.

The front door slammed and you heard keys jingling and smacking sharply against something. Patrick seemed to be home, and obviously unhappy. Your brow furrowed.

"Babe?" You called softly, closing your book. Your husband didn't answer for a moment, kicking his shoes off quickly. Finally, he rounded the corner, looking flustered.

"Hi," he said simply, taking off his coat. Patrick hung his jacket on the coat rack with such verve that it almost toppled over and he had to catch it with one hand to stop it from falling. You cocked your head to one side.

"I'm guessing work wasn't so good," you said softly. Patrick sighed, shaking his head and giving you a slight sideways glance.

"I don't want to talk about it," he told you firmly. You were a little surprised at his tone.

"Oh, well, that's alright, honey. Did you wanna watch the rest of this movie with me?"

"No."

"I can make you dinner, or something. I've already eaten, but-"

Patrick cut you off quickly with a few sharp words. "Look, I just.. I want to be left alone, okay? I'm not happy right now," he told you, turning toward the stairs.

You had to admit that that stung- Patrick's voice was hardly ever that angry toward you, except during big arguments. However, you brushed it off- His day obviously wasn't good, so he deserved to be a little mad. You sighed.

"Alright, baby. Where're you going?" You craned your neck to watch Patrick walking upstairs.

He didn't look back at you until he reached the top of the stairs. "Music room, where else?" He said exasperatedly. Your lower lip jutted out a little- you weren't fond of this mood.

"Alright.." You said slowly. Patrick disappeared down the hallway, and you heard the door to his study slam.

You continued to watch your movie and absentmindedly read your book, but Patrick's behavior was still on your mind. And not just because it was unpleasant, but because he was making a real racket upstairs.

He didn't sound his best, that was for sure- off-key piano tunes rang out and sour guitar noises twanged throughout the otherwise quiet house. Frankly, it was annoying. You usually didn't mind when Patrick was loud but, then again, he was never this loud and this bad.

You grabbed the remote, paused the movie, and set down your book before running upstairs. You tentatively knocked at the door to Patrick's "music room" (as it was labeled on the door). When he didn't answer, perhaps unable to hear you over all of the noise he was making, you pushed open the door yourself. It wasn't locked, as per usual.

Papers were a little scattered and Patrick was standing with his acoustic, which struck you as odd. Not extremely out of the ordinary, but Patrick preferred to sit and play his acoustic. You shook your head. "Patrick!" You rose your voice. "Look, baby, I know you've had a bad day-"