Fire Fly | Patrick Hockstetter X reader|

Chapter 10

The sun was beginning to set, Patrick made no notion to tell me he was leaving soon. There was a weird silence that clung to the air. The only sounds came from the cool afternoon wind rattling the branches of the trees and the lone humm of a bullfrog. Without a heads up, the back door swung open. The metal siding of it smacked Patrick on the side of the head.
       "Fuck," he mumbled as he shifted out of the way.
      I looked up to see who it was. My dad stood in the doorway, clad in his police uniform. He looked at me.
    "Im going to work now, I'm not sure when I'll get home, your mother is staying at your aunts with your sisters,"
    "Why?" I asked, My dad always had the night shift this wasnt new.
    "Your Aunts neighbor thought she saw a cat that looked like Winston, they want to get up nice and early to go look for him," Patrick gave my dad a sideways look.
     "And watch your language Hockstetter," He said frowning at Patrick. F/n closed the door.
    "Glad I made a good first impression with your dad," He said sarcastically as he rubbed the side of his head.
      I gave a small laugh.
      "Did you want to go in the house?" I asked. He nodded and stood up.
        My house was rarely empty, my brothers were both at friends houses for the night. It was strange. I watched as Patrick walked away from me, staring with searching eyes at the pictures along the wall. I walked to the kitchen dropping the empty coca cola bottles into the garbage (my family dosent recycle). I stood in the kitchen for a bit holding the sides of the counter tops. Should I get some snacks? Im kinda hungry...but then I'd have to share. Before I could decide I heard a small crash sound.
    I rushed to the living room. Patrick stood in the middle of the room, arms raised and hands behind his hand. On the floor by his feet was an old vase. Correction, shattered old vase.
   "Patrick!" I yelled I left him alone for 5 minutes.
   "Im sorry," He said carefully stepping over the glass towards me. He tried to hug me, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. I wiggled out of the hug. He looked at me with sad puppy dog eyes.
    "We have to clean this mess up now," He rolled his eyes in response.
    I grabbed a broom and he grabbed the dustpan and together we tried to clean up the mess. It started off okay, but slowly dwindled into and argument.
     "No- dont- just move here," Patrick said as he viciously jabbed the dustpan to the left.
    I swept to the left the bristles sweeping the wrong way, a cloud of dirt and dust enveloping around Patricks head. He winced wrinkling his nose and screwing his eyes shut. He gave a small feeble sneeze and shook his head.
    I couldnt help but laugh at his sneeze. He looked up at me confused.
    "What?" He asked, although with Patrick questions always sounded like demands.
    "Your sneeze," He still looked confused "It sounded like a kittens sneeze," He fell silent and started to pout.
     I tickled his foot with the broom.
     "H-hey quit that!" He said, his voice rising in anger.
      "What are you ticklish?" I asked.
      "No, I just want to get this done without you shoving glass in my foot," He reached out a hand and gripped the broom pulling it closer to the dustpan.
      "You're the one that broke it..."
      "I SAID I WAS SORRY,"
       "Inside voice!" I yelled back at him.
      He gave a grunt then dropped the dustpan scattering vase shards all over the floor. I watched him stomp off into the kitchen. It took another five minutes before I had it all cleaned up.  
       "Dont worry I got it all cleaned up," I sighed as I walked into the kitchen and dumped the shards in the garbage. Patrick stood leaning against the counter beside the fridge. One hand was shoved in his pocket, the other hand held a bottle of one of my dads Coors beers.
        "Oh, you cant- okay," He took a big gulp of the drink.
        I put the broom and dustpan away joining Patrick in the kitchen once more. He held out the bottle and I took it.
     I held the bottle to my lips and took a small sip. I didnt care for the taste of alcohol that much. But I was surprised about how empty it was. The bottle a little under half full.
      I had assumed Patrick was staying the night since it was almost 9 now. He finished that beer and grabbed another one. I would have stopped him but the daggers his eyes shot at me made me silent.
     We sat on the couch and watched two movies, Escape From New York and then e.t. We ate icecream and Patrick drank more alcohol, I occasionally had some sips, I only drank when I was with Natalie or Ally.
    After e.t finished I noticed that Patrick was nodding off. I grabbed his empty icecream bowl and my bowl, struggling (but managing) to pick up his empty beer bottles. I carried it all to the kitchen and put the empty bottles in the trash. I turned to the sink and turned the tap on holding my hand under the hot water.
I put the bowls in the sink, before I could start washing I felt a pair of hands slip around my waist. A chin settled on my right shoulder, as he breathed I could smell the heavy stink of alcohol on his breath. I turned around wiping my hands dry on my shirt. Patrick was very close to me. His hands still on my waist. I looked up, his eyes studying my face. He pulled me closer to him. His gaze was blank, emotionless. But the closer we got the more I felt my cheeks grow hot. He was silent as he brought his face closer to mine.
His lips touched mine as they brought me into a kiss. I placed my hands at the back of his neck, gripping his long hair between my fingers. His lips were cold and tasted of alcohol and vanilla icecream. A weird combination. He bit my lower lip and in surprise I opened my mouth just enough for him to slide his tongue in. We pulled away for a breath of air after a little while. I felt the hot blush creep into my cheeks once more. He bent over and started to kiss my neck. I felt his teeth as he bit my neck softly. Hes drunk why are you letting him do this? Hes not even saying anything. Theres no emotions on his face. I pushed him away and backed up. He looked at me confused and slightly hurt.
"I-I'm tired, I think Im going to bed, you can have the couch," I turned around and rushed up the stairs, just barely catching what he said;
"Wait, y/n..please,"