What If Patrick... (Patrick Stump Imagines)

crisis

|4:45 pm|

Another school year has ended and everyone seems to have a well-planned vacation with their friends and families. Enthusiasm seems to flow from everyone's smiles and bright eyes except yours. You feel drained from working too hard and too much for the entire second semester for the sake of earning the grades you've been depriving yourself from and that could give you a recognition to make your mom proud after years of rewarding her with disappointments and frustrations.

You can't help but finally surrender to your lack of enthusiasm about the vacation and the forthcoming summer. You swear you could use the entire vacation for sleeping and for trying to put yourself back together.

Your energy and creativity are totally exhausted from your being and you sort of feel immobile without those. As you reached your apartment, you sat on your bed with a pen and a piece of paper to write on about how you feel. But your hand isn't moving and you're just staring blankly at the paper.

The skies are burning out like I am – scratch

I gave it all. I gave it all. So this is what giving your all feels like? – scratch

I'm exhausted. I don't know what else to write. I'm just really exhausted. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel better. I hope I won't get stuck. Writing is my only escapade. I'll get back on this tomorrow.

You finally wrote as you threw the pen and the paper on the floor, giving up that you couldn't write about your feelings. Disappointment crept on your spine. You couldn't wait for the day to end so you decided to take your clothes off and just sleep in your undergarment because fuck everything. You're way too tired to put on your house clothes. You're just going to take it off when you take a bath the next day. Or maybe when your lover comes over. Whatever. You tucked yourself in and dozed off.

|9:12 pm|

You fell in your dream which jolted you awake. It was already dark in your room with a soft glow of white and yellow lights from the outside. You feel warm and satisfyingly stuffed despite your nakedness. You like how warm the bed feel against your bare body so you decided to stay for a while, dismissing your groaning stomach.

You dreamt of a woodpecker until your eyes fluttered open and realized that someone is knocking. You frowned, thinking who could it be, so you wrapped the sheet around you and walked towards the door to open it.

"Hi" your lover, Patrick greeted you with a small sweet smile as you opened the door.

You chuckled and pulled him in, shutting the door closed with your leg as you bury your head on the crook of his neck. Patrick secured you in a hug as both of you swayed to a silent melody.

"School's finally over!" He spoke brightly after a while of silence.

You sighed and pouted. "Mhmm."

"We can finally rest." He said.

"Mhmm."

"So..." He trailed off, taunting you to fill the gap.

"So..." You replied, not wanting to talk or lift your face from his neck.

"Don't you want to go out and celebrate?" He suggested.

You shut your eyes tighter for a few seconds, not wanting to think about the question because you never seem to made up your mind on something except him, which resulted in a long white noise.

"Y/N, will you tell me what's wrong, please?" Patrick gently asked you as you felt his warm hand caress your bare and cold back that made you shiver.

You sighed for the last time as you lifted your heavy head from his neck in order to face him.

"I just..." You started then found yourself trailing off, not knowing how and what to say about it.

Patrick's hands moved to your shoulders, gently gripping, telling you that he's not going anywhere until you tell him everything about it. Please let me in, his eyes pleaded, which stung yours.

"Patrick," you started again and bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from breaking. "My words and my hands are failing me. I feel too used, too exhausted." With that, warm tears slowly glided from your eyes as you bit your lip harder to try to stop them but it did not seem to do anything.

You just feel too...exhausted that you can't even seem to stand on your own ground or lie to yourself that you're all right and that you can just smile it off.