Sweetheart. (Patrick Stump Imagines)

sunshine riptide (part three)

Soon, you and Patrick were back in the studio. Pete carefully set the stacks of sketches aside to make place for the bunch of food that the three of you ordered and are going to scarf down for the rest of the night.

"Oh shit." Pete muttered.

"What is it, babe?" You inquired as you unload the paper bags.

"I forgot the choco p-butter milkshake."

You chuckled. "Maybe you don't need it anymore." You tried conving Pete. "We have enough water here anyways."

Pete stood up. "No, I can't survive this night without it. I'm going back downstairs, babe." He eagerly said, quickly kissing you on the cheek. "Don't start eating without me!" He yelled as he ran out of the studio, slamming the door shut, leaving you and Patrick alone.

You felt Patrick's stare burning holes on your nape. The atmosphere in the studio suddenly switched to something taunting. You despised how every fiber in your body was pulling and pushing you towards him and do something that shouldn't be done when you're in a committed relationship with Pete.

You frowned and groaned as you continued distracting yourself by folding the paper bags neatly.

Patrick started walking towards you, extending his legs to buy a little bit more time to resolve the tension between the both of you.

You felt him gently grab you arm. You stood up and faced him, suddenly lost in his vibrant blue eyes, his pupils dilated.

Suddenly the world, time, and space melted away as Patrick's lips crashed onto yours like two big waves that finally met and crashed into each other halfway.

It seemed to went on organically. The way you and Patrick pulled each other as close as possible, the way both of your mouths moved fiercely on each other, the way you locked each other in place in a warm embrace made it seem like you and Patrick have always been together ever since the beginning of the days.

It was wrong, technically, for obvious reasons that you are in a relationship with Pete, whom you love the most. You just couldn't help but wonder why the kiss doesn't feel nowhere close to being wrong at all.

Patrick was supposed to be feeling guilty, but only the truest feeling comes out of every crevices in his soul, bones, and organs: he loves you so much and he couldn't stop anytime soon.

You and Patrick went on, catching up with the moment that they've been missing, and bruising each other's lip with the ferocity that lures in tragedy.