Sweetheart. (Patrick Stump Imagines)

sunshine riptide (part two)

The lightning illuminated inside the studio. Patrick looked outside the window and watched the palm trees sway and bend along with the strong blow of the wind and the intensifying rain, trying to distract himself from you.

"Yo, 'Trick, is it cool if we stay the night here in the studio? The weather's pretty wild tonight. We can't drive through this." Pete reasoned out with a hint of concern in his voice.

Patrick glanced at you sketching on a new page, not missing how you pout your lips and how you scrunch your nose from time to time everytime you get in detail with your drawings. He quickly caught himself and looked back at Pete. "Sure, that's fine with me." He answered, then brought his wrist up to look at the time in his watch.

"You guys want some food? I'll buy some from the restaurant in the ground floor." Patrick offered as he stood up, putting his wallet in the pocket of his jeans. He took off his fedora and threw it carelessly on the couch.

Pete elbowed you gently, making you look up in his round, hazel eyes that you've always adored. "Whataya want for dinner, babe?" He asked you.

You twisted your lip to one side as you thought about it.

Patrick smiled to himself as he watched you do that. He knows that you could never come up with a certain food that you want. You prefer to see the menu rather than giving your order without a reference.

"I don't know what they have, babe. I'll just come along with Patrick, so I can choose." You finally decided, sensing Pete's upcoming protest, but he chose to clamp his mouth shut about it.

"All right. I'll have three boxes of pizza. Uh, beef & mushroom, three cheese, and pepperoni overload. Oh and throw in three burritos as well. You pick the fillings, babe." Pete said, smiling goofily.

You chuckled. "And those are all just for you, of course." You said, leaning in to capture Pete's lips for a quick kiss. You slipped your wallet in your pocket as well and walked out of the studio with Patrick.

It was a silent walk towards the elevator for a moment. You didn't mind at all. You've always felt comfortable being around Patrick even if both of you shared a special history together.

You glanced at Patrick as the elevator door closed. "I see, you've been watching me for quite a while in the studio."

Patrick blushed in embarrassment, but you know that he wasn't a tad bit sorry. He smiled. "I see, you're happier and you shine brighter with Pete. I'm pretty sure yours and his demons have gotten along pretty well, huh."

You bit back a smile and let a giggle stumble out of your mouth. "Yeah, I think so, Patrick." You paused and turned your head to look at him with your questioning raised brow. "Is that your downpour fever talkin'?"

Patrick scoffed as the elevator rang, indicating that you're on the ground floor. "Damn, I really just was your triage then."

"Patrick." You sighed.

The elevator rang, signalled that you're in the ground floor. As the doors slid open, Patrick stormed out of the elevator with a hard face.

Somehow, a ghost of smile haunted your face as you rolled your eyes backwards and walked after him. "So, downpour fever, huh?"

Patrick groaned as he pushed the glass door open and walked in the restaurant.

Both of you had your orders listed and paid on the counter. You and Patrick waited on a table, sitting across each other.

"Patrick, you know how we almost killed us. We were destructive. We were each other's time bomb."

"Y/N," Patrick balled his fists. "I wanted us to live as much as you wanted us to die."

You raised your brow. "But you wanted so badly to make me okay. Maybe I didn't want to be all right. Maybe I just needed your empathy and understanding. Maybe I didn't need help. Maybe I just needed patience. You just had to be there. You didn't have to be an antidote."

Patrick ran his bottom lips through his teeth hard, making it redder than normal. "Don't you dare turn the table around."

You breathed out a laugh as your gaze at him softened. "What table is there to turn around?"

There was silence.

"Why can't you let go of me? Why can't you set yourself free of me?" You asked him gently and helplessly.

Patrick set his gaze on you, his once wild and raging blue eyes, now settled and glimmering.

The waitress came with the boxes of pizza and with a couple of paper bags with the food in it. You quickly flashed a kind smile and muttered a gratitude to the waitress then stood up and left with Patrick, this time, with calmer steps.

"I-I'm sorry." Patrick muttered.

You gently bumped his arm with your arm as a way of cheering him up. He chuckled and looked up at you as both of you entered the elevator.

"I've loved you, Patrick, just as much as I love Pete now." You passionately spoke, your gaze smoldering into his.

Patrick weakly smiled at you as he felt himself getting hit by the brutal waves of truth right in the face, making it hard for him to catch a breath. "I see that, Y/N, but I still love you just as much as I did before."

You didn't know how to respond to what Patrick had just said. You couldn't help the blush that was flaming up your cheeks.