We're Only Liars // Peterick

☆Just Off A Lost Cause☆

*HEY MA MUNCHKINS, Y'ALL SO FEDORABLE 1.4k reads and nearly 200 votes WhAtS gOiNg On! ThAnK yOu EvErYoNe!*

Patricks POV

The slight dizziness was becoming wistful to be honest, the feel of the alcohol numbing my senses helped aswell by a warmth the devilish brown liquid brought was unbelievably satisfying. Each gulp that caused each throat burning sensation was beautiful. The way I even almost forgot about my disenlightening thoughts that night was enough to set a small smile upon my face, though that smile felt regrettably unpleasant. I really shouldn't of been happy and truth be told I wasn't, I was far from happy. Everything seemed too dark to even be able to consider my true emotions, the ebony was futile.

I reached out for another army opaque bottle from the emptying case, my shaking hands missing the neck each time. The shaking was either caused from the coursing alcohol or my shredded nerves. I must of already polished off 8 bottles however that didnt waver me. I'd rather drown in brewed hops and barley than my own sorrow thank you very much. When I finally caught a finger around the last beer I heard a muffled sigh from beside me.

"What?" My speech attempts were somewhat faultered by the uncontrollable slurs that slipped from my lips. I turned at Pete's exhalation, his eyes were blinded shut as his tanned head slowly shook in disapproval. Whatever.

"I think you've had enough that's all" His stunning eyes opened and fell on mine. I couldn't help but shiver. Pete's hazel irises were unbelievably captivating. He sat along side me, not too close but still comfortably near. His toned jean claddened legs lay crisscrossed, never changing that position whilst I continuously fidgeted. His hands clamped the same bottle he began with; taking miniscule sips as he contemplated the flavour. I turned away with an light grin.

"Enough is never enough my friend!" I shouted before I uncapped the last beer, downing the bitter liquid in a matter of seconds. The buzz of the bubbles was something I will always adore. Then again I was never a fan of alcohol till then, I was always the moderately sober one. What was wrong with me? Oh yeah thats right I was just made worthless or as my mind state 'nothing'. I forcefully threw the bottle down which made a terrible shattering sound that even made me jump. Shards of beer-stained glass made their journey across the wooden floor. Pete yelped, placed his beer down and cautiously jumped up away from the possible impalement. I never though, I sat there with the cotton still protectively wrapped around my bare shoulders, an obtrusive looking piece of glass landed suggestively near my shin.

The early morning sun glistened off the fragment as I held it vertically between my thumb and forefinger. I had an unexplainable urge to push down on the jagged ends, a small trail of crimson ran sluggishly down my tensed thumb. I pressed slightly harder and the blood ran thicker this time but from my forefinger too. The pressure became almost painful, until a sudden hand swatted the bloodied shard from my grasp.

"What are you doing, you're hurting yourself!?" The exclamation in his voice was undeniable as he made a dashed into the pristine En suite.

You know, thats the point!

My stare remained on the empty spot where the sharp glass recently stood, the burning cimson already ran dry but the punctures were still active. The pain I just endured was unusually blissful yet somehow relieving. I certainly didnt feel like I was 'hurting' myself, I felt as if I was releasing some of my built up tension. It felt exhilarating and almost addictive. I laughed as I dropped my hand.

Pete returned with toilet tissues, a cup of water and an etching of fear on his features. I didnt see what he was so worried about, I mean the wounds on my tips were only minor anyway. He slowly sunk down in front of me with a cautious smile scrawled across his face. He was treating me with such care that it was already becoming annoying, acting as if I was ready to shatter into a million pieces. God Pete.

"Just because I was raped it dosent mean i'm all so vulnerable, you know?"I spoke casually (the alcohol already waring off) almost like getting raped was a regular occurence for me. Pete flinced as I spoke, he seemed more traumatized than I do myself. He truly couldn't feel the hollowness I felt or constantly see the haunting images I saw. He was just guessing his actions by default, maybe he was right-maybe I was that vulnerable. Maybe I could automatically shatter if I was spoke to the wrong way or even shatter if I was just touched. To be honest I didnt think I was all that fragile, all that sensitive, breakable or vulnerable. I just felt dirty.

"I'm sorry Patrick.." I winced as he started to dab gently at my fingertips with the damp tissue. "..I dont really know what to say, I mean what if I say something stupid? What if I do something stupid? What if im being stupid right now? What if.." he started mumbling frantically off into his own his own little world.

I hesitantly placed my free palm, careful of the blanket, on top of Petes busy hands which were fussing with my injured one. His head snapped up and met my eyes, silencing him instantly. "What if you treat me like I was a human being?" I offered.

"Yeah sure I guess, im sorr-wait what do you mean 'was', you still are human Patrick" He let out a light chuckle, squeezing my hands a liitle before searching my blank unamused eyes with his hazel ones. His smile quickly faded when I let slip his warm hands and reluctantly began to find my feet. I grew instantly dizzy, head spinning but I tactically remained to keep the scratchy cotton wrapped tight around my naked body. I realised that was the first time I stood up propally since the rape, I wasnt afraid to admit the incident just saying, what's there to hide? You see dirty filthy people everyday and I was no exception.

I briefly remember after Pete found and released me, he turned away with a look anger, left the room and me painfully alone again. I tried to go after him but instead I ended up on the ground. That's where I stayed, on the cold hard wood that made every unknown place of my body ache.

At a slowed pace, I staggered up to the pristine En suite avoiding the scattered glass and glanced back at a bewildered yet concerned Pete. His glistening eyes met mine once more before I returned to stare at the wooden frame. My one hand clutched the cool glass knob; the other held the fabric. I hastily shut my eyelids off to the light and rested my light head against the painted white door. My thoughts rejoined me once again as I twisted the knob and spoke.

"I was Pete I was, not anymore.. I dont know what I am, what you can call me or how you can speak to me. But lets just pretend that I am still human, its easier for both of us that way. Atleast we know the truth, i'm just something else now. Maybe im nothing.."

And with that I left him.

*Nawr Patrick dont say that, you're NOT nothing you are GOD! Thanks again everyone! Sorry for any spelling or grammer mistakes, I cant be bothered to proofread O:)*

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Quote time!.. FROM MY FRIEND WHO FOUND IT ON TUMBLR FOR ME!.. just saying.

"Patrick for example - I would not care if he is 300 pounds or the size he is now, he is one of the most talented guys I know and that is what should be focused on, not the fact that he's lost weight since Fall Out Boy's hiatus. When I look at Patrick all I see is my best friend that has stuck by me through everything, he has stuck beside me through the worst and helped me from making the worst mistake of my life and nothing I will ever do in my life will be enough to repay him for that."

-Pete Wentz (can I have you?)

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Til' the next time,

-shesmywinona27