Let me love you

◊ 6 ◊

Henry couldn't stop thinking about something even now in the middle of the night. That something was clinging onto him like plastic wrap right now at this very moment.

Warm very smooth plastic wrap that held him closely with such tenderness and very tightly that went by the name of Patrick.

Patrick in Henry's opinion was just playing dumb, he was clearly more intelligent than him or Belch. Probably on par with Vic. But why? Why would Patrick play dumb?

Henry had no theory as to why but the closest thing he's got to one is that maybe he didn't want to intimidate him or Belch because Patrick was more gruesome in terms of methods of bullying and the killing of animals.

Henry still shutters about the old freezer in the garage of his house, not even god knows whats in there.

The evidence for him being intelligent was all there, the books, the notebooks filled with writing, the ideas and research on what's been happening lately in Derry. Patrick was very intelligent and quite manipulative if that boy Patrick bullied last week was anything to go by.

Henry remembered that,

Patrick groaned softly and Henry closed his stormy eyes quickly to pretend as if he was sleeping as Patrick stretched symbolizing that he was waking up.

Henry could feel Patrick's arm slide across his waist and one of his hands rubbing away imaginary tears with his thumb and Henry could hear Patrick sigh,

"That's good, at least his bruises are healing." That's when the blonde boy realized that Patrick was talking to himself and not Henry.

Henry knew that Patrick didn't want him to go home to butch and was taking serious measures to make sure if it.

Patrick always asked him why he goes back to butch, knowing that he could stay with him, vic or literally anyone else. Especially since Rena came into the picture.

Rena was butch's current girlfriend which butch had most of his focus on and was seriously advised by Vic to get away while he still can. Just like his mother did.

A creaking symbolized that Patrick was getting out of bed, the feeling of his warmth and the silk camisole he wore was taken in an instant.

Henry hated to say it but he missed it, after being at Patrick's for the last two days introduced him to feeling he didn't want or needed.

Henry opened his eyes just a tad bit so he could absorb what Patrick was doing.

He was sitting at the vanity brushing silky obsidian pigmented hair humming 'put your head on my shoulder' by Paul Anka. The soft creme color brought out his ivory olive skin tone.

Patrick stood from his chair and the humming stopped as he spun around the room letting Henry get a glimpse of the lacy matching shorts that hung very loosely off delicate hips with white stockings that gripped his thighs.

Patrick stopped short of the closet and opened the door revealing two sections of outfits. One set was clearly Patrick's, judging from the darker colors and overall aesthetic that matches Patrick perfectly, the other was more like clothes Henry would wear.

If Henry's theory was right than there was one question, how the fuck did Patrick get his clothing sizes? Plus how did he purchase all of this without him knowing, he's been here for the last two days.

"Hm I should probably get started on breakfast, Vic can get a bit pissy when he doesn't eat, not to mention Henry; he far too thin...fucking pig" Patrick snarled the last sentence and Henry knowing damn well that that snarl was meant for his father.

"I wish I could just kill him, then Henry could live here and- stop it Patrick he's a person, not to mention Henry would hate you and I don't need that...not right now." Patrick sighed out the last part and Henry got a tad bit flattered that Patrick was so willing to kick his dads ass for him but the phone at Patrick's shelf that was next to the vanity started to go off, Patrick quickly hurrying to answer as if he didn't want Henry to wake up to the sound of the phone ringing off the hook.

"Hello?" Patrick answered and Henry saw how his sweet soft expression quickly turned sour as spoiled milk.

"No Butch, Quit callin' or else.." Patrick growled out and Henry could feel all the color drain from his face as his father knew exactly where he was hiding.

"Oh yeah you really wanna test that you old fucking pig?" Patrick's tone and how he spoke to his father made Henry literally want to piss his bed out of pure unfiltered fear that he held towards the man.

"Come anywhere near me and my house I won't hesitate to fucking shoot you....Do it butch, I seriously dare you, oh tell your shit eating girlfriend that I said hi." Patrick clicked the phone hanging up on him instantly.

Henry than saw Patrick walk back over to the closet and kneel down in front of it and grip something with both hands.

And- holy shit that's a shotgun.

Patrick cocked the large shot gun and fiddled with the trigger.

"Like fucking hell he's getting Henry." Patrick then marched downstairs with a flame of unholy righteousness in sea green orbs.

Henry looked towards the clock and saw that it was four in the morning and Vic wakes up around 7.

Henry was just glad that Vic and Belch were sleeping in Patrick's old bedroom which was the farthest room from the door, the room being from when he was a child and didn't hear anything that happened or will happen.

God Henry hoped that his dad didn't come, he really didn't want Patrick to go to jail for doing practically everyone a favor.

Henry could feel his heart drop and tears roll as he heard a car pull up into Patrick's driveway.