Fire Fly | Patrick Hockstetter X reader|

Chapter 6

A/n: im switching it up a bit, and it'll be in your perspective, if you want me to keep it that way or go back to the other way, please let me know  also when i do an authors note its always gonna be in bold. Xoxo

                  Y/n pov
       I sat on my bed leaning back to touch the smoothness of the wall. I tossed the lighter back and forth between my hands. It was just after 7, the sun beginning to go down. My sister, Emily sat on her bed at the other side of the room. She was finishing up home work.
       "Hows school going?" I ask breaking the silence. Dinner had been crowded and awkward as it always was. Our dining table barely fit five people let alone eight.
       She shrugged not even looking up. I knew something was wrong.
      "Whats wrong?" I ask setting the lighter down on the night stand, the first time I had set it down all night. She shrugged again.
        "Tell me whats wrong," I persisted.
        "Its just..people hardly talk to me at school anymore, they say I have murderers blood," she finally looked up at me. She looked immensely tired.
       "I didnt kill anybody,"
        "I know,"
        "You look tired,"
         Emily closed her books and set them gently down on her dresser, knocking off a pile of drawing paper in the process. Emily and I watched as the paper scattered to the ground. She sighed and bent down to pick them up. As she did she began to speak;
      "Do you ever hear stuff at night?"
      "Like what?" I asked.
       "Scratching. Like in the walls and in the floors," Emily looked serious.
I shrugged; "wouldnt surprise me if we had mice,"
        "No y/n, not mice or squirrels. Its..Its something bigger," she stood up and placed the pile of papers back on her dresser.
       She came and sat on my bed beside me. I placed an arm around her shoulder and she hugged me.
       "I-I think there is a monster in the house," she said quietly as if scared of someone or something over hearing her. I looked down at her. Is this why she isnt sleeping? I thought.
      The concept of monsters was silly to me.  Why be afraid of something that has no chance of existing? Fanged and spiked creatures that haunted the night didnt frighten me.
        "I have an idea. Wait here," I pulled myself away from Emily and darted out of the room and down the stairs. I ran out the front door and to the shed.
         Pulling open the door I looked in, pitch darkness. I sighed. I dug around a few boxes before i felt my fingertips touch the electric-taped handle and I smiled.
        I ran back into the house and locked the front door, i could just slightly hear the tv, playing some weird show, the song i could hear seemed to be about sewers. My mom, dad, millie, Daniel and Rosie sat watching it. Charlie was at his girlfriends house for the night.
         I ran back up the stairs, I was almost out of breath. I reached my room and held the door knob for a minute before going in, catching my breath.
         "Oh my gosh!" Emily gasped as she saw what I was holding. Charlies old wooden baseball bat.
         "It's for the monsters," I said with a smile. I gave the bat an experimental swing, just barely missing my lamp.
"I'll beat up any monster thats here if it gets you to sleep,"
   Emily smiled and gave me a hug.
     "Thank you," she said, "im gonna get ready for bed," she yawned and left the room.
           I walked towards my bed and set the bat down beside it. I looked out the window my fingers tracing the rough wood of its sill. Small lights flickered here and there outside.
         "Fire flys," I whispered, to no one in particular.
         Patricks pov (didn't expect           that did ya)
       I paced my room, tracing the small, wicked blade of my knife between my fingers. My foot still hurts. I thought, frowning. But it was worth it to talk to her. I dropped the knife and clapped my hands to my head, falling back onto my bed.
        What's so special about her anyways? Shes just another girl putting on a tough guy act. Or is it tough girl act? Who cares. And what is with this feeling in my chest when I think about her? I put a hand on my chest. The fluttering feeling had returned.
         I thought about when I seen her punch Eddie in the alley. She almost looked like a tiger pouncing onto prey when she jumped off the dumpster. He also thought of the stuff Henry had said after the girls had all left and Patrick returned to the alley.
        "That y/n girl is hot. Wouldnt mind getting into her pants." Henry, Victor and Belch had laughed after this. But patrick stayed silent. He actually wouldnt mind getting into her pants if he was being honest. She was hot. And she hadnt screamed and ordered to move seats when he showed her his pencil box of flies, like all the other girls had.
      He laid down and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples with his index fingers. Tomorrow he would leave her a gift. If she liked it he would pursue her further. Is she didnt..he would make her like him.

This story is beginning to moooovee alllloooonngggg (finally am i right) and a bit of a dirty side to Patrick :0 Also i might not be able to get out three chapters a day like i have this weekend but we'll see. I have a lot of ideas for this story. That go in different directions, half that focuses all on Patrick and then some that focuses on the terror in Derry.