Sweetheart. (Patrick Stump Imagines)

burnt

Y/N's P.O.V.

I woke up to the ugly wafting smell of something burnt. The new early morning suddenly felt old and ready to be put to trash.

I went downstairs and wasn't surprised that the house was almost filled with smoke. I could hear Patrick's silent murmurs of curses as he opens the windows and even the doors.

I then proceeded to the kitchen and saw three burnt cakes in a bread mold. From the smell of it, Patrick must've been trying to make banana bread. I poked one of the burnt bread with a knife and saw that the inside was fine. However, the heat radiating from the oven was hellish. How high did he set the temperature?

"Holy fuck." I heard Patrick curse out loud as he saw me in the kitchen.

I get amazed everytime I hear him curse. It's just like hearing him talk in different languages, but harsher.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, amor." Patrick said as he rushed by my side, immediately wrapping his arms around me from behind, peppering kisses on the side of my face and on my neck.

"It's all right, Patrick." I said, chuckling afterwards.

"It's just that, I woke up feeling inspired to bake a banana bread and I think I put too much milk, because I thought it would make it taste more delicious, but then I forgot how easily it burns and I think I mistakenly turned the knob on the wrong temperature. I didn't notice it— I was still half-asleep." Patrick hastily explained, his chin resting on my shoulder like a puppy.

I leaned on his head. "Really, it's okay, love. We can make one again in a while." I suggested. "Hopefully this sobered you up." I jokingly said, referring to the burnt incident and him being half-asleep while he was doing stuff in the kitchen earlier.

I felt Patrick smiled. "Yes, I'm definitely sober and I'm never doing this ever again without you."

"Aw don't be silly. You've said that last time and here we are again." I laughed.

Patrick laughed as well and buried his face in my neck, moaning and groaning.

I shagged his dirty blonde hair and quickly craned my neck to plant a quick kiss on the top of his head. "Come on, let's grab those overnight oatmeal from the fridge and eat 'em in the porch. There's so much oxygen for us there."

Patrick lifted his head up. "Ooh all right. Cool. You're cool." He quickly kissed me on the cheek and went ahead to grab the two mason jars of overnight oatmeals.

We then proceeded to the porch and sat on our own rocking chairs while we let the morning solitude wash away the quite stressful morning that we had.