I woke up in the woods with Pete next to me and an incredibly sore butt. (Bcuz they had the secks in the woods and I didn't describe it for you bcuz I'm mean and don't want to write smut, and no I won't let you write it for me. You know who you are)
Everything hurt my ears and eyes. The sun made my eyes hurt like I was looking directly into it and the bristling of wind through the trees gave me a pounding headache. "Pete," I said quietly trying not to give myself anymore of a headache.
"Hmm?" He asked.
"My head," I said quietly and he sat up next to me. I know what comes next.
"Are you ready?" He asked and I nodded numbly. He brought he hands up to my face and rubbed his thumbs over my cheeks. "I love you, Patrick." He said.
-
-
I opened my eyes to see my bedroom ceiling. I got up to open up the window curtains just to yelp out in pain and back away quickly. I watched as the burn marks on my skin fade back into my usual pale complexion.
Pete never burned in sunlight, and he never mentioned anything about sunlight.
The door opened and Pete walked in with something in his hands. He set it on the bed and went to close the blinds. "Patrick, are you okay?" He asked and I nodded. "I brought you some food." He said tossing the package at me to reveal a dark red blood bag. It made my mouth water just thinking about it, but the metallic scent would normally disgust me.
I popped of the cap and drank the thick liquid quickly. "Thank you," I said and he nodded.
"You're welcome my love."
I have nothing to say, so yeah.
YOU ARE READING
Saturday (Peterick)
أدب الهواةPete meets Patrick who is a splitting image of his nineteenth century boyfriend, Thomas Stewart. How will they get along, and what happens when your dead loved ones weren't who they said they were. doppelgänger ˈdɒp(ə)lˌɡaŋə,-ˌɡɛŋə/ noun noun: dopp...
