Patrick Imagine: Say You Won't Let Go

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A/N: I love this song by James Arthur and I've seen a lot of different imagines written based off of this song. I decided to give it a go as well.

It took him three shots and a bottle of beer to go and talk to you.

Okay, three shots, a bottle of beer, and blackmail from Pete to go and talk to you.

Patrick walked towards you on unsteady legs, unbelievably nervous. He tapped your shoulder and you turned to the singer, instantly shocking him.

You were even more beautiful close up.

"Hi!" You yelled over the club's music.

"Hey! I've been watching you from across the room for like 10 minutes." Patrick said.

"Wow, you're very polite. No ones ever come over to tell me they've been stalking me."

"N-No! I meant watching you in a non-creeper way."

"I don't know man. Sounds pretty creeperish to me." Patrick had become so flustered and tongue tied he didn't even know what to say. He knew he screwed up.

"I'm just teasing you! My name is (Y/N)." You laughed. Patrick let out a sigh of relief and chuckled lightly.

"I'm Patrick. Do you wanna dance? Ya know, with me?" He asked.

"This isn't exactly a slow song." You smiled as the fast paced music boomed.

"Oh right. Sorry." Patrick blushed.

"But we can still dance next to each other like psychos." Patrick laughed and started to just dance and let loose next to you.

Joe and Pete watched from across the club.

"What the hell are they doing?" Pete asked watching you two dance.

"I have no clue, but they were obviously made for each other

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"I have no clue, but they were obviously made for each other." Joe replied.

"Hey, $500 says they get married."

"They just met!"

"What are you, chicken?"

"...you're on."

Later that night, you ended up in an alley behind the club with Patrick holding your hair back as you threw up.

"Jesus, you know you really don't have to stay." You groaned.

"No where else I'd rather be honestly." Patrick replied truthfully. You gave Patrick a quick smile before continuing to empty your stomach.

*8 Months Later*

"I hate when you have to leave." You mumbled, the side of your face squished up against the side of Patrick's arm.

"I know. I hate leaving you too." Patrick sighed. And he really meant it. Every time he had to go for a show out of the country and you couldn't come, he was worried that you would finally realize you could do better.

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