"When you say little, in what sense do you mean?"
"That I have a little headspace, which is a set different from my usual mind that makes me act more in a childlike and younger manner."
"Oh thank good, I thought you meant a little dick."
Pete's a li...
Lmao okay so 2007 is a fucking weird time and trying to write around that time period/time is hella ducking hard so bare with me bc I'm figuring out what computers and what phones were used during that time and MySpace and shit like that lmao
It's also summer and I'm leaving for Greece in 2 days times and I've got a fucking throat infection so that's put a very very very large downer on my mood. So I've decided to write for this fic now that I've just recently finished another!
Also! Don't judge me because I was never old enough to have MySpace and I'm remembering vaguely about MSN so correct me where I'm wrong
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By the time that Pete wakes up it's gotten dark outside and the television has switched itself off from the lack of use during their sleep. The house has grown long cold and so has the space on the sofa beside them, cold and empty from what Pete can see through their half lidded eyelids and blurry vision as they stiffens back a yawn.
Pete had somehow convinced Ryan into staying for another hour or so before leaving, mostly for the fact that Pete needed Ryan to do things for them around the house before their mom got home and also for the fact that Pete really does hate being on their own in the house. So Ryan says, he finishes the rest of the Ben and Jerry's ice cream tub and they watch a couple of Simpson Episodes that had been playing on the television.
Ryan can never stay for long, his mom is such a worrier and his dad an asshole, or well that's what Pete can say from the handful of meetings of Ryan Ross's parents. A match made in hell if you ask Pete but nobody does and so they keep their mouth shut about it. It just be nice to have a parent that worries of where they are constantly, most of the time Petes mom doesn't even know if they're in the house or not, too busy with work.
"Stupid cute guy and his stupid cute butt."Pete grumbles through the pain whenever they accidentally lean on their ankle, grumbling something about painkillers under their breath because maybe that's a good start on the road to recovery.
There's a little voice of regret for trying to impress the cute guy at the skatepark, mostly because Pete is far from being good at skateboarding and secondly for the fact that they had tripped over a rock and twisted their ankle like a loser. If it hadn't been for the fact that Pete is secretly the biggest crybaby out there and has the pain tolerance of a newborn puppy, Pete would've gotten up and sauntered away unharmed.
But damn, Pete really wanted their number.
Hoping to to the kitchen, Pete ends of making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off for dinner, noticing that it's now past 9 at night. With a bottle of coke under their arm and a plate of sandwiches in their hand the struggle that Pete has getting up the stairs while hoping is a sight that Ryan would kill to see.
