Canvas (Peterick)

Four

Pete Wentz

I woke up to an empty pillow beside me. The air smelled of food, but I wasn't exactly sure what it was and frankly, I didn't exactly care. I wasn't hungry enough to eat whatever breakfast Patrick made for me in sympathy. I just wanted to hop in the shower and head to work. But when I shuffled across the hallway back to my bedroom to gather some fresh clothes, Patrick had seen me and called my name.

"Good morning!" He said in a cheery voice from down the hall.

I internally sighed and mumbled, "good morning", continuing to my bedroom. But Patrick followed me in.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "I made you breakfast." I only shook my head. His good mood was annoying me. I pushed passed him with clean clothes in hand to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I hoped to stay in there until I had to go to work in a few hours. But I knew I had to get out sooner or later. After about forty-five minutes there was a knock on the door, and through the thick, steamy air I heard Patrick's voice.

"Are you okay?" he called. "You've been in there a while."

It kind of felt like déjà vu...

Anyway, I hadn't left the door locked, so he barged in to check on me. "Hey," he said, tapping on the shower curtain." I didn't answer, so he pulled it open.

"Why didn't you answer?" He was still looking up and down my naked body, and he sounded a bit angrier. I told him I didn't know, but maybe I didn't answer because I wanted him to see me and my body. I felt like that might have been the answer, for I enjoyed his eyes on me.

"Are you okay?" He asked a second time, worry forming on his face.

"Do I look okay? Yes, I am fine."

"Pete, but are you fine fine." His question sounded more like a statement. I sighed and threw my head back into the steaming water, closing my eyes so I didn't have to looked at him any longer.

"Just go away, please." With that, I heard the shower curtain close, but not the bathroom door. I peeked out of the shower and Patrick had left it open, maybe to check on me whenever he needed to. He was a good friend.

I wasn't yet dressed when Patrick walked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him this time. The humid air stayed trapped around us. His eyes were red and slightly puffy. I could tell he had just been crying.

"Patrick, are you okay?" I lunged myself toward him but he stepped back.

"No, Pete, I need to know that you're okay because when you're not and you won't let me help I just turn into a big fat mess," he said loudly, beginning to choke up.

"I told you you don't have to worry about me anymore."

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO STOP WORRYING ABOUT MY BEST FRIEND WHO HAS TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF?" He hollered. The tears were rolling down his cheeks now, and he pressed his face into his hands. I threw my nearly naked body around him and held him tight.

"Patrick," I cooed, stroking my fingers through his hair, "I swear it's not that big a deal and you shouldn't be worrying this much. I'm sorry for scaring you."

He let out a shaky breath over my shoulder and sniffled. "Can you at least talk to me about it?"

I snatched the rest of my clothes and pulled them on, then led Patrick to his bedroom. He plopped his small body onto the bed and I took a seat beside him. He waited for words to escape my mouth, but when none came I threw myself back onto his bed. He only blinked at me. The anxiety crept up my legs like vines and I knew there was no escape. I had no other choice but to tell him my real feelings for him. How would this change everything? He might think I'm disgusting, or he might be weirded out and stop talking to me. Everything is going to change right as I say it. I might lose my best friend in less than a minute. He'll move out to run away with his fiancé and forget me, like I've always feared. I know Patrick and I know how he'd react to most situations, but not this. It was hard to determine his reaction because I've never seen this happen to him. Guy is in love with his straight best friend who's getting married. How do I tell him this without him hating me? Just say it Pete, say, "I'm in love with you"...

"I..." I stared blankly at the ceiling, choking out the word.

Patrick looked away and then back at me, still waiting for me to ruin this friendship. "Take a deep breath," he said. So I did, and the words came out easier.

"I'm in love with you."

I glanced at Patrick to catch his reaction, but he only laughed. "Seriously, Pete, what's the matter?"

"Why are you laughing?" I sat up. "Patrick I wasn't joking."

His face automatically turned pink as he looked away. "Oh," he murmured toward the doorway. I was about to turn his face back to me, but I thought he might be uncomfortable with me touching him. "I didn't know you were..."

"Now you know why I don't have a girlfriend."

He chuckled and looked up at me with his beautiful blue eyes. He didn't seem mad, nor grossed out. He was still my happy, cheery Patrick.

"Yeah, that makes a lot of sense," he said. I stared down at my hands until the conversation became more serious. He didn't stare at the doorway anymore. He actually spoke at me. "So, how do you feel about th-the wedding?"

I sighed, looking back down at my lap. "I don't know, I... I love Elisa, you know I do. And I'm happy for you guys, I really am. But sometimes I just wish it wasn't happening."

He nodded in understanding, then parted his lips to speak. "Is this what you were trying to tell me last night?"

I nodded, chewing on my quivering bottom lip. Patrick promptly enveloped me into a hug, burying his face in my neck. I tightened my eyelids to keep back any tears that threatened to slip out, and bit back any sob that wanted to escape my lips. I was grateful to have a friend like Patrick, someone who wouldn't let you go unless you did something really fucked up. And according to him, what I did was the right thing to do. Telling the truth was an important rule in his book.

"I didn't think you'd react like this," I said.

"Accepting? Pete, I would never let you go. In love with me or not, you're still my best friend." His lips curled into a loving smile. "Now do you want your breakfast? I made you French toast."

"Of course I do."

I HONESTLY HAVE NO WORDS. -MICK