Confliction ; Joetrick

thirteen; of spilt soup and public arguments

Patrick sat, in the corner of the café, alone with a bowl of soup. He didn't actually want the soup, but he knew he had to order something, otherwise he'd get kicked out. He needed somewhere to go, to be sad by himself and not be disturbed. So he stared into the orange-ish liquid, the 'Soup of The Day', whatever it was, stirring it with no real intention of eating it. He wasn't in the mood.

It was the early hours of a Saturday morning, and the only other people there were having coffee before leaving for whatever job they had on a Saturday. Patrick wasn't looking at them, anyway, but more focussing on looking outside the window beside him. He didn't want anyone to see his red, swollen eyes.

He was mad at himself -- at what he had let happen. He saw it coming, he knew it would happen, but now that it had, he didn't know what to do.

There weren't many people outside the window, only a few passing by on a morning walk or in a rush to work, and Patrick knew he should've been one of them, but he had absolutely zero motivation. There was no way he felt like doing anything else that wasn't sadly staring out of a window and pretending to eat soup all day.

Patrick watched as each person walked by, not noticing his eyes on them. He felt kind of invisible, and it felt kind of good. Then, from the distance, a fairly short man caught his eye. He was too far away to have any distinct features in Patrick's line of sight, but what caught his eye was the big grin on his face. The guy -- Patrick could now see he had shoulder length hair -- looked like he was having a great time simply walking down the street, but what probably made him so happy was the small child he held in his arms. Patrick guessed that was his son or daughter.

The guy was walking down the street which passed the café, and the closer the guy walked, the more distinct his face became to Patrick.

Then, Patrick recognised him. It was Joe.

Joe was the man in the distance, holding Ruby and looking way too happy considering the rest of the people around him. And Patrick really didn't want to see him, not after what had just happened concerning both of them.

Patrick really didn't want to see him happy. Not after what he helped do, and in result make Patrick feel the worst he ever had.

So, he stopped his endless stirring, and hid his head under his jacket, somehow hoping Joe hadn't and won't notice him. He had no idea how long he'd have to stay like that, but that wasn't his main concern.

"Room for one more?"

A voice came from above Patrick's position -- his head on the table covered with his jacket -- and it make him jump, hitting his knees on the underside of the table and in result, knocking the soup bowl off the table, soup spilling all over the floor. Immediately recognising the voice, Patrick slowly removed the jacket draped over his head, and looked up to see the very man he was hiding from.

There, indeed, stood Joe, shining in all his glory. His smile was wide, amicable, and it perfectly matched the one that Ruby wore, while sitting peacefully in her father's arms. In the past, Patrick would've done anything for Declan to be like that, but now, Patrick would do anything to hold Declan for one last time, no matter how hard he kicked and screamed.

If Marie was still alive, Patrick knew that they would've been the perfect family, the sort that you see in magazines and things, that make you throw up a little inside your mouth because of how gross and unrealistic they are.

But Joe was anything but gross and unrealistic. To anyone looking at the two, Patrick guessed he must contrast with Joe massively. His eyes were red, his hair was messy, his whole appearance was in shambles. And Joe? To Patrick, Joe looked beautiful. Joe's eyes shone, his hair was framing his face perfectly, and his lips looked so kissable...