imagines | p.s.

unforgivable

disclaimer: i haven't played super mario bros in like two years so forgive any inaccurate info ?? i also don't know if patrick actually sucks at it or not.

"Fuck! You've got to be shitting me!" Patrick exclaimed, throwing the remote control down on his bed. For about the fourth time since you two had began playing Super Mario, Patrick had died. In world 1-2.

Needless to say, your friend sucked ass at Super Mario Bros.

"Patrick, I keep telling you-"

"Yeah, yeah, double not single jump," he sighed, flopping down on his back. "Take your turn. Kick my ass."

You laughed lightly, leaning forward to grab the remote controller. "Y'know, if you'd wear pants that weren't those batman ones, you wouldn't jinx yourself."

"Listen, bud, insult my batman pants again and I'll call you out on those God-awful polka dot shorts," he said, poking your thigh.

Inwardly, you winced. Bud. God, you hated that word. At least coming out of his mouth. You took a breath and then turned to grab your phone.

"Are we feeling Bowie or early 2000's pop punk today?" You asked him, scrolling through your phone, the video game before the two of you forgotten. Patrick shrugged his shoulders and sighed softly.

"Hmm.." he turned over onto his side, facing you. "How about some Lana?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Soft stoner jams."

You chuckled, your cheeks blushing soft pink. The fact that the words "stoner jams" coming from his lips made your heart flutter was ridiculous; you were head over heels and it sucked.

"Alright, Lana it is," you said softly, clicking shuffle on Ultraviolence. Soft melodies and breathy vocals soon filled the comfortable silence between you and Patrick, who was toying with a stray thread coming from your comforter. You couldn't help yourself from staring at him; he was so pretty. And he wasn't looking back, anyway.

You hated loving him, sometimes. Cliches erupted all the time; you found yourself looking at him looking at other girls and hating the word "friend" a lot over the past year or so. In some ways, you wished you didn't like him so much. But you knew you wouldn't change your feelings if you could, not really.

Dwelling on what you presumed were unreturned feelings was sad, so you analyzed his face to occupy your thoughts. The curved of his cheekbones, plumpness of his lips, and curl of his eyelashes made you feel all mushy. He was so, so pretty that it hurt.

After a moment, Patrick chuckled. "You gonna stare at me for the rest of the song?" He teased, voice low and husky.

Your face suddenly burned. God, you were a dipshit. "I-I.."

"You weren't? Yeah, you were." He didn't sound upset or anything of the sort, but still, your stomach tightened.

"I'm... sorry?" You said dumbly. What were you supposed to say?

"Mhm." He laughed softly again, yellow and blue eyes crinkling at the corners. His smile was beautiful.

Stop that. Stop thinking like that.

"You're pretty when you stare, though," he said, making you jump again. Your eyebrows nearly disappeared into your hairline. No...

"Oh.. shut up," you mumbled. Patrick sat up, his body so close to yours that you shivered. You tried not to think about his hand creeping up onto your knee.

"Make me."

"Maybe I will."

"Maybe you should."

His playful teasing persona broke and suddenly Patrick was all blushing and nervous smiling. You bit your lip- fuck, he was cute.

"Do you want me to?" You teased lamely.

A split second later, his face was in front of yours, so close that you could see the yellow around his pupils very clearly. An inch's movement and his mouth would brush yours.

"I think I do," he said. His voice was shaky, but somehow, the words were firm. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him you wanted to-

You came to with a slight start, taking in a sharp breath. It took a moment for you to gather your surroundings; you were curled up on top of your comforter in your bedroom and Patrick was seated on the edge of your bed. On the small television screen was Mario Kart and in your best friend's hand was the controller. Unlike in your recent dream, he was good at this video game, so he was really into it. You couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Not real. It wasn't real.

Patrick looked over his shoulder at you, grinning. "Hey, sleepyhead," he laughed, making you blush. "You took, like, an hour long nap."

"O-oh."

"Yeah. You mumbled a lot." He shrugged, and then went back to his game. Your heart was thumping. You scooted up next to him.

"Um.. I.. Ah, fuck." You couldn't speak right. Patrick's eyes furrowed, thumb moving toward the pause button on his controller, but you grabbed his hand. Before you could psych yourself out, you steadied yourself, and kissed him.

He didn't kiss back; he didn't do anything except sit there shocked, really. But then again, neither did you. You sat there for a few seconds, lips smashed a bit uncomfortably against his, fingers curled around his hand wrapped around the controller. The ridiculous sounds of pixelated cars crashing and skidding wildly. You could feel his own fingers clenching as they held onto the video game remote. When you pulled away, his mouth hung slightly open.

"Uh," he breathed, chest heaving a bit. You weren't sure if you could talk properly, but a second later, you did.

"Sorry," you said impulsively. Your heads hadn't moved away from each other's. For a full minute, it was silent.

"You should be," Patrick said after the long pause, hand on your knee. Your heart sunk. Oh, god; you fucked up. You fucked the fuck up. If there was ever a dumbest person it would be you.

"W-why?" You stuttered, lower lip quivering. "Did I.. was that bad?" Patrick bit his bottom and a small smile carved into his cheeks.

"Well.. not necessarily," he said slowly. "But.."

"But?" If he would get to the fucking point..

"But.. you made me lose my game in Mario Kart and I was in first so.. not sure I can forgive that."

"Oh my fucking god."

i wish i would write something and be proud of it because this is not something im proud of but?? its something.

happy sunday i hope ur days tomorrow are great