What Twisted Webs We Weave

Better Off As Lovers

(Pete's POV)

It's not like I expected to just have sex with Patrick the first day I saw him again. I wasn't that much of a narcissistic asshole. If we were going to try and work things out, we needed to start off slowly. That was my plan and apparently Patrick had the same idea. So of course it wouldn't make sense for it to bother me that he stopped my advances. It shouldn't make sense, but it did.

I didn't think I was irresistible. But I did think we would at least get to second base. I was in the mood and Patrick seemed like he was in the mood. But as soon as I even attempted to go past kissing, he froze. As if we were new to this. As if he didn't know what to expect from me.

I didn't want to dwell on those thoughts for too long. I was happy to even be sitting on this couch with Patrick's head in my lap. Stroking my fingers through his hair as he hummed along to the theme song of a show I'd never seen before. I could be happy doing this forever.

The show wasn't interesting enough to catch my full attention. So I was eyeing the containers of take out food scattered across the coffee table in front of us. Two meals worth. Breakfast and lunch. I wonder if he'd want me to stay for dinner too. Or even after dinner. Tyler was probably losing his sanity being alone in that hotel room. But I knew he wouldn't mind me staying out. He knew how much Patrick meant to me.

Would me staying the night mean we'd sleep in the same bed? I couldn't imagine Patrick making me sleep on the couch. But I wasn't too sure. Things were different now. Our comfortability seemed refreshed.

"Pete?" He whispered my name.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

He must have been talking about stopping me in the kitchen. I smiled. He could always tell when something was bothering me. "Patrick, you don't have anything to be sorry for."

"Yes I do. I have a lot to be sorry for. I did so much shit to you before-"

Oh.

"Shh." I stopped moving my fingers through his hair. "We both did things we shouldn't have."

"But I was worse. I lied and lied and lied. And then I tried to justify it all with bullshit."

"Patrick, you went to jail because of me."

"Yeah, for two weeks." He scoffed as if it weren't a big deal.

"But you didn't do anything! It didn't even make sense. I was alive less than two minutes later. How would you go to jail for that?"

"The jail time was mostly for the assault of the police officers."

"You assaulted police officers?" I couldn't even image my little Patrick doing something like that.

"Only because they wouldn't let me see you." I felt him shrug. "After I made bail I found out you'd died and I had nothing to do with that. Your family was still suing me for assaulting you. And they were also suing the hospital for the misplacement of your body. No one could explain what the hell had happened to you. Everyone was trying to point the finger of blame at anyone but themselves. It was hectic."

"So you all just assumed I was dead?"

"They had a service for you the second week I was in jail. No one would talk to me about you. Or take me to your grave site."

"Holy shit."

I exhaled in horrified awe. I had a grave site. There was a tombstone with my name one it. That was like a page from a nightmare novel. The awe quickly evaporated though. The thought was more horrific than anything else. I was very much alive. And now everyone knew it. Having that tombstone was like having the grim reaper just following me around all day. Waiting. It was eerie. It needed to be taken down.