stammer!patrick & waiter!pete
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Patrick is a Junior in High School. Pete is a waiter at Red Robin. Patrick has a stutter. Pete has bipolar disorder.
They don't match; their personalities are complete opposites. Or are they?
...
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Pete's POV.
"can i walk you home?" the boy picked up his hat, letting his auburn hair fall onto his head before setting the cap back.
"i d-don't think i can h-handle going home right n-now."
a fucking angel, that's what he was.
"why don't we go to the park, yeah?" he nodded meekly, as we made our way down the street. luckily, the park was only a few blocks away.
"are you cold?" he shook his head, pulling his jacket closer.
once we arrived to the park, we both took a seat on the swings, as i admired the quietness whilst trying to forget today's events.
"how are you?" i asked, quickly growing tired of the quiet.
"i-i just s-stood there and-" he took a breath before fragile tears and tiny whimpers escaped him. "-and i-i just did nothing."
"it's ok pat-"
"it's not. it w-won't ever b-be. nobody d-deserves those scars."
"he's going to be fine. okay? you just have to hope."
"what if y-you're w-wrong? you can't b-base everything o-on hope."
"trust me, i know. but you have to, for now."
"i don't l-like b-being happy all the time. i want t-to cry and be sad t-too."
"you're too young to be crying. you have to spend your time focused on good things-- great things."
he looked at me like i was crazy-- a false hope. it was too bad that somebody as nice and caring as him could break down like he was now.
he really was porcelain. like a beautiful, intricate vase waiting to be destroyed, pushed, and decimated.
it was heartbreaking and heart-wrenching.
"you remind me of a vase." i said out loud, without even thinking.
"w-what?"
i bit my lip, trying to think of a way to explain myself.
"you're strong and pretty and intricate and all things great." i started, as patrick stared at me with the widest and most hopeful eyes i had ever seen.
