We're Only Liars // Peterick

☆Stuck Fixated On One Star☆

*Hi Munchkins..so yeah, im back. Hehe, oh and a twisted turn of events my original phone works again, so I stole money and bought another phone for nothing:') Oh well life goes on and now so does this story*

Pete's POV

The glistening stars are so beautiful, each and every one pulsating at their own will. Them and the sheening full moon cast a ghostly essence over my surroundings. My mother told me that every star you see in the black abyss above is the souls and kindred spirits of departed ones, they shine on so you know that they're are always watching over you. Keeping an eye on you, like the 'Guardian Angels' they are not. Millions of stars stalk me at night. Millions of lifeless gas balls slowly burn out into nothingness, one after another. I used to wish upon a shooting star, just like when I blew out my ever growing candles or when I enevitably lost an eyelash. Making wishes gives us false hope about things that we have no control over. We cross our fingers and pray to something that's not even real, the unknown force that dwells in the mind of others but me. Im not an atheist as such, I just dont see the possibility of a God. Yet I still mindlessly pray.

My brain racked itself as I sat on Patrick's porch in the ebony night. I've sat here for hours, I felt incredibly selfish for leaving Patrick but I needed to escape for a while. In that time I watched the sun set over Chicago, leaving the winter breeze to worm its way into my senses. My breath wisped and formed cigerette like formations in the air, they were beautifully free. Unlike me, unlike mankind itself. Unlike my conscience, Im trapped in that and theres no obvious escape.

The night was annoyingly peaceful though, too quiet for my liking. The only sounds to be heard was the cries of retreating birds and my shallow raspy breathing. The cold was definetly getting to my lungs but I didnt mind, the silence was still comforting. My calloused fingers played anomonously with each other to sustain warmth and protection under my sleeves from the bitter winds that stormed through Illinois. I gritted my teeth against the cold and hung my head low into my lap, I wanted to retreat back into Patrick's house but he seemed to want privacy. It's not my place to invade, It's not my place atall however I was worried and I couldnt help. I have no idea what he's going through right now, the pain he's enduring. I should tell him everything will be ok, but we both know that would be a lie and a hurtful one at that.

I felt stuck. I wanted to run, run away from the responsibility of being an unwanted comfort source. Yet I wanted to stay, stay and hear his deepest thoughts, his vital needs so I can counteract and give him hope. I wanted to be with him. But was I wanted?

Most likely, not.

I sighed once more and went against my questioning. I went against them because they didn't seem accurate, they felt agonizingly wrong. I needed to be there for Patrick, no matter what he says or does to push me away. It's not happening. I will be there.

I pushed my numb body up off his porch and edged to the front door which I left on the catch. My hand turned the knob. I stepped in unknowingly of Patricks' presence pulling the door closed, huffing in the process. I rubbed my hands over my face as I trudged up to the couch only to stop in my tracks. Patricks frail body lay in the cotton blanket on the seat before me. He didnt notice me atall, his focus was drawn to a familiar piece of paper clutched in his hands.

The note.

What must he be thinking? He probably hates me for not telling him. He must be scared though, petrified even. That note was absolutely cruel as fuck. I actually didn't want to show him it but that's no right of mine, its his property and I shouldn't of read it in the first place. I'm an awful friend.

"It didn't seem like the right time to show you the note, I'm sorry Patrick" My statement didn't even unnerve him, his body remained rigid, hands slowing sinking into the paper.

"I had a right, She is-She was my wife.." his voice trailed as he scrunched his fingers into the note. He looked angry.

"She left her ring too" I added warily.

"I'm aware.." he exhaled nosily as he regained a confortable postion on the cushioned seat. "..Im not mad at you Pete, Im more mad at myself"

He hasn't done anything though, he's the victim in all this.

"None of this is your fault, trust me" I dropped into the seat beside him, careful of contact between us.

"She hated me for thinking of the band more than her, I deserve this and what happened. Pete trust me, this is my fault" I was slightly shocked by his words. This was not his fault atall. Especially what happened.

"What Elisa did was wrong Patrick"

"What rape me? You can say it y'know." He deadpanned.

"And that is wrong and ceratinly not your fault, do you understand me?" I asked sternly, maybe a little too harsly as he jumped at my outburst. "Sorry, I didnt mean for that to sound rude"

He shook his head. "Pete, this wouldn't of happened if I wasnt so selfish or ignorant, If I saw how badly I was hurting her then she wouldnt of had too put me in my place. But now its too late and i've lost her and our marraige obviously" He finished the last part while holding the wedding band in the air and throwing it too the floor.

I was aloss for words, completely and utterly dumbfounded. How could I even match that? How could I even react? I felt lost.

"Are you cold?" I asked changing the subject, he seemed a bit confused at my new words but shrugged anyway.

"Im alright but I want a shower, If thats okay I mean?" he hestitated as he spoke.

I chuckled lightly. "Its your house Patrick, who am I to stop you? Go on" I shooed him away with comical arm gestures. He nodded and made a 'B' line to the stairs, I heard his feet climb and then suddenly stop.

"Pete? by any chance do you know where my phone is?"

His phone? Uh. Think Pete.

"I think, but im not sure, it might be with your stuff that your brought back from the hospital" I suggested not to overly sure with my answer.

His light footsteps carried on as he muttered a muffled thanks.

*My internet runs out from 'soon til friday', so i'll start writing again then. This was a VERY shitty chapter but I needed one completed today as like I said 'my internet'. Well sorry but I will try and make the next on longer and better*

「My friend burned me all the Fall Out Boy albums so im happy now, very happy actually:D」

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☆A cute thing Pete said about Patrick☆

'Patrick doesn't do gross things. His body is made up of kittens, saturdays, 70 degree weather, first kisses and butterflies. Trust me I cut that bitch open once to check.'

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La revedere

-shesmywinona27