Patrick Stump Imagines

51 - Apologies and Oreos

I just love Oreos. That's it.

-----

Patrick was hesitant to knock the door in your mini library at home. He held the tupperware that contained the Oreo Cheesecake that he made on his own. He knew that Oreos would make you talk at least.

He knocked on the door, making you tilt your head a little then back at your screen, without saying a word. He just pursed his lips and decided to sit next to you...whethere you like it or not.

-----

Three weeks ago

It surprised you when Patrick went home with a bruise on your cheek. He noticed you on the couch, but didn't say a word. Instead, he just rushed upstairs and shut the bedroom door violently.

Being yourself, you took ice from the refridgerator, an ice bag and some pain killers. You rushed upstairs and peeked from the door, finding your boyfriend splayed on the bed, his face facing the bed.

"Whatever you're going to say, shut up." He said, placing a pillow on his face.

"I know you're mad...please have some ice for your bruise."

"Leave me alone." He said.

"Patrick, what else do you want?"

"I said leave me alone Y/N. Don't make me say it thrice."

"Just take this and promise me you'll--"

"What can't you understand that I wanted to be alone, you clingy bitch?" He barked at you and after you heard the last two words, you dropped the ice pack and pain killers on the ground, not caring if the water evaporates and drenches the medicine.

And after that, you ignored him by putting your "Shut the Fuck Ups" (headphones). Patrick's anger was reasonable, knowing he had a fist fight with one of his friends but calling you a "clingy bitch"? It's going to be the other way around.

-----

"How long are you going to ignore me?" He asked. "I said I'm sorry and I didn't mean it." He murmured. You looked at the corner of your eyes and rolled them in irritation. You continued to journalize the transactions that your client made.

He nudged his elbow at you, but you still ignored him. When an idea crossed his mind, he stood up and went downstairs.

And when he came back, he was confident that you would talk to him.

He sat back, sliding the box of Oreos that he bought, knowing it was your favorite.

"You said you dreamt that all Oreos vanished, so I bought...like twenty boxes."

"What about that?" You said, pointing your lips to the cheesecake.

"I made that and that's yours, though it looks nasty...er...maybe it's...ugh...I guess you wouldn't eat it--" He stopped, finding you shoving some to your mouth.

"Who said I wouldn't eat it just because it looks nasty?" You said. "It tastes delicious, though."

He just smiled awkwardly at you. "A-am I forgiven?"

"I don't know." You said, popping another spoonful to your mouth. "Just because I'm talking to you it doesn't mean that you're already forgiven."

"So what can I do for you to forgive me?"

"Hmm...talk to me whenever you have problems. I guess, in that way, will help."