Fall Out Boy Imagines/Preferences

47. Photograph -Patrick Stump

(ONLY LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING IF YOU'RE A MASOCHIST OR YOU JUST LIKE TO CRY)

Where our eyes are never closing...

Hearts are never broken...

Time's forever frozen still...

Photographs lined the walls, some old, some newer, but they all told a story. Your withered fingers traced over the picture frames, reliving every moment.

We make these memories for ourselves...

The first photograph of teenage you and Patrick, standing awkwardly beside each other; his arm around your waist, a huge smile on his face. You guys were on the way to your first high school dance, all those years ago. You chuckled at the style of your dress, and Patrick's slicked back hair.

I will remember how you kissed me under the lamppost back on sixth-street

Your eyes moved on to another picture of you and Patrick, together in the pool of light casted by a street lamp. Your friends had caught you off guard, snapping the picture much to your protests. Looking back on it, you don't even remember much about the evening, except that it was the night before Patrick left for his first tour.

"Wait for me to come home."

He had whispered in your ear as you two pulled apart.

We keep this love in a photograph.

You ran your fingers over the cracked glass of the frame that held your wedding picture.

And if you hurt me, well that's okay baby only words bleed.

At one point in your seemingly perfect relationship, it had gotten rocky. Patrick was away a lot, which led to arguing. One particular night, tensions got so high that while you two had your usual argument, he took the picture from the wall and threw it to the ground in anger and stormed out of the house. You two spent a little while apart.

Loving can mend your soul

But you overcame it, eventually coming back together. And you both insisted on hanging the photograph back on the wall, cracked glass and all. Love wasn't easy, but it was worth it. And just like the picture frame, it may have cracked, but it didn't fall apart, because it was strong.

You won't ever be alone.

The next picture was a blurry screenshot you had taken of Patrick while facetiming him. It was early in the morning his time, which meant sleepy Patrick wearing glasses and leaning over a mug of tea. Despite the hour, he had still managed to wake up and talk to you, being just as energetic and smiley as always.

So you can fit me inside the necklace you got when you were 16.

"Babe, have you seen my necklace?" You asked as you tore the bedroom you two shared apart. "I can't find it anywhere. I need it."

"The one your grandmother gave you?" Patrick asked, walking into the room with his hands behind his back.

You nodded, dumping your jewelry box out onto the bed. "I couldn't have lost it, it's the only thing I have to remember her by." Panic was evident in your voice.

Patrick put a hand on your shoulder. "Relax, I took it-"

"You took it-"

"I wanted to surprise you." He stood behind you and put the locket around your neck. "Open it."

Opposite of the picture of your grandmother, was a picture of Patrick, smiling.

"That way I'll always be closest to your heartbeat. Exactly where I should be." Patrick kissed your cheek.

And even now, you could feel the cold metal of the locket rested against your chest, and it felt like Patrick was with you. The thought made you smile.

"I won't ever let you go." You vowed and kissed the locket, tears forming in your eyes.

"I miss him just as much as you do." Declan rested a hand on your shoulder.

"You look so much like him." You said through tears. "I see so much of him in you." You broke down.

Declan hugged you to him, running his hands over your back. "We've got to go. I said that I would bring you back to the hospital at 2."

"I don't want to leave him." You wiped the tears from your eyes.

"I know, so I made you this." He handed you a photo album. "It was hard to find them all, I practically had to wrestle most of them from Pete myself."

You ran your shaky fingers over the golden cursive script. The Story of Us. The title brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes as you opened the album and stared at the pictures of you and Patrick. All of them dated, up until the last one you took with him. His eyes were still alive with joy, even though they were surrounded by wrinkles and he was lying in a hospital bed.

And it's the only thing with us when we die.

Cancer had stolen Patrick away from you, but he had a long life, and he thought he had lived it to the fullest. That was enough for you.

Inside these pages you just hold me

"Thank you." You whispered, your voice cracking.

"Come on mom." Declan smiled, the same smile that belonged to Patrick all those years ago.

"I'll be right out, let me say goodbye." You squeezed his hand.

Once you were alone, you ran your hands over that last photograph.

"I love you Patrick." You whispered, tears falling onto the picture. "Wait for me to come home."

This made me tear up while writing it, I was listening to the song while rereading it and now I'm crying. Sorry for the emotional trauma, but I really hoped you liked it ~xoZoe