Patrick Stump Imagines

Misfits (part 2)

"Patrick, can you open the door?" My mother says, setting the table for a dinner with the new family that moved in our neighborhood.

I know it's kinda annoying, but there are times that I love this thingy that my mother does. Because of this, I was able to meet girls that I only eye from the window pane.

I open the door and a family of four was waiting in the porch.

"You must be Patrick." A woman in her mid forties said as she clutches her fifteen year old's shoulder.

"I am and I assure my mother's waiting for you." I say warmly.

"Come in! Come in!" My mother shouts from the dining area.

"I'm Margarette," the woman says. "This is Maggie, my second daughter."

Maggie smiles at me. "Hey, Patrick."

I wave at her.

"Stevie, my husband." She purrs and smiles sweetly at him. "Excuse me Steve," she says and he moves aside, unraveling a familiar figure.

It's Y/N who loved physics and aced the mathematics class.

I let them in and I loved how Y/N smells of vanilla.

-----
We indulge into small talk, asking them about fishing and some things we usually do.

Honestly, this is the first dinner that I couldn't even resist. I am sitted next to Y/N and it irritates me that she's sitting next to me.

Well, time for some show.

I step on her left feet and she flinches, hitting the table with her knee. Since the impact was really hard, her glass flipped over and her juice spilled on her skirt.

Mom immediately fumbles on the kitchen tissue and passes it to her.

I felt something weird when I found her staring at her father, who's glaring daggers at her.

She shook her head weakly. Steve nods a little and somehow, I don't feel good about him. He moves to his wife and whispers something in her ear, then leaps on his feet and left.

This doesn't seem good. From the glares that meant trouble to this walk out.

"I'm sorry for the ruckus my daughter has done." She purses her lips. "I'd like to continue the dinner, but my husband is not feeling well. Thank you."

They all stood up. She pulled her kids next to her and wrapped her arms around them.

Fuck. I think I just made something terrible.

Mom glances at me as the door closes shut. "It's your fault, Patrick." She says, pursing her lips.

-----
The very next day, Y/N wasn't able to come and attend the classes, and it made me feel guilty. The guilt inside me consumes me as the day passes by and she wasn't able to come even once.

"Dude," I say to Pete. "Believe me, they're like a tiger and its prey." I say.

"Well, you made her fuck up big time. Nobody wants to fuck up in a dinner."

"Pete, it's not that he's going to scold her or something, but the other." I say, hitting my palms on the table.

"Fine." Pete rolls his eyes at me and eats his pizza.

Later that day, when I got home, I started to wonder what lingers inside that house.

My mother was mad at me; she hasn't talked to me ever since the dinner. She knows I've done it.