What If Patrick... (Patrick Stump Imagines)

Blue

Here's the 2nd part of Black. I hope you guys will enjoy this one.

•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•

It's been 2 weeks since the burial and it has also been two weeks since you got out of your house. Well, you go out sometime just to buy groceries and fresh food from the market but that's just it. You don't visit your favorite bookstore or music store anymore. You couldn't bring yourself to simply smile to anyone. It's like you also died with him.

Patrick's father was like your real father. He was nice, very loving, caring — he was everything you never thought a father could be. The man holds a special place in your heart. He might be gone but his memory lives on.

You're still lying on your bed, the thick curtains keeping any ray of light from your room. The whole atmosphere in your house is dark, gloomy, dead — just like you. You're just waiting for something to happen but you know you also have to move and try to live again. This isn't what Patrick's father wants. If he's still alive now, he'd probably drag you out of your bed and lecture you for hours.

You miss him. You miss your 'dad', you miss Patrick. But just like his dad, Patrick won't be coming back to you. Ever.

Your stomach growled at you to feed it, giving you a humane reason to get up and move. You went to the kitchen and made yourself some waffles and put out a jam and peanut butter while you make yourself (choice of beverage).

As you settled yourself on the wooden chair and put your breakfast on the table, your mind suddenly dived in to what could Patrick be possibly doing now. How is he coping? Does he drink? Does he smoke? Does his girlfriend cares? Is he having bad dreams? F.uck, you want to call him up and check up on him.

Patrick Stump is your best friend too. It sucks that you two being in a serious and romantic relationship would change it all. But he's still your best friend and you loved him. No amount of tragedies and new girlfriend can change that.

You made a sound at the back of your throat as you lightly shake your head sideways. Patrick's a big guy. He's a grown man already. He knows what he's doing. He sure can handle this.

Patrick||First person

Naked, sweating, out of breath, but still empty. That's all I am since the day my father died. A sexual mess with my girlfriend. There is definitely something wrong with me.

My father's death left a huge cut on my heart. I'm just so blue at what happened especially during the burial. Y/N was even there. I couldn't forget the pain and sadness in her eyes and the way she held me. Her touch was very comforting. It was all I ever needed. She was all I ever needed. Not this. Not Margaret. Not sex.

"Hmm babe I still want you." Margaret seductively spoke as she starts to kiss the bruised part of my neck which made me moan in pain and pleasure.

I don't want any of this. I'm helpless. I need y/n.

I gently pushed her away from me. "No, Margaret. I'm tired already. I might take a rest for a while." I said as I lie back down and pulled up the thick blanket to my chin.

She scoffed. "That's all you ever do. We fuck, you sleep, then we fuck again. Aren't you getting tired? I've been doing you a favor —"

"Doing me a favor?" I hissed at her as I sat up to face her. "You're not doing me a favor or any sort. You're not supposed to be by girlfriend. You're not supposed to be the girl I please especially in bed. Margaret, I never loved you. I was drunk. I was alone. I don't even know why I made myself stick with you. I don't need you. I don't want you." I spat those brutal truths at her which earned me a slap from her which I think I deserve.