when the party's over, hockstetter 𝜗𝜚

xii. when the party's over

❨ WHEN THE PARTY'S OVER ❩
CHAPTER TWELVE:
WHEN THE PARTY'S OVER

‧ : *: ‧ °✧

winter, january 1989.

the gentle hum of the fan fills the quiet room, while the first rays of morning sunlight filter through the blinds. patrick groans softly, shifting in his sleep, a sliver of dawn painting the room in soft hues of gold and pink.

the warmth of (y/n)'s smaller frame resting atop him brings a gentle smile to his face.

he runs his fingertips along the small of her back, pausing at the hem of his oversized shirt draped over her. he smiles softly as the touch sends a visible shiver down her spine.

the girl yawns, her tired eyes fluttering open to meet his blue ones.

"come back to sleep." she says, her voice groggy.

patrick chuckles, lifting his other arm to run his fingers through her hair. his soft, pink lips pucker and leave a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"come on, bub. we've got that party to go to, remem—" before he can finish his sentence, (y/n) jumps up and bolts out of his room to the bathroom.

the dark-haired boy sits upright, his eyebrows knitting together in concern as he fixates on the door she just exited through.

after about five agonizing minutes, the teenage girl reappears, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and a small frown deeply etched into her otherwise soft features.

"i think i'm—i'm just gonna go home." she huffs, beginning to look around the room for her clothes.

"you okay?" her boyfriend asks, standing up and walking over to her.

(y/n) nods, "i just don't feel well. you can go to the party, okay? hang with the gang, have fun. but not too much fun."

patrick smirks, hair flopping as he nods in agreement.

"you can stay here though. my parents don't get back til' late tonight. and i'll only be gone for an hour, okay? than we can cuddle or—"

"quit being such a teddy bear." she laughs, shoving him away and hopping onto his bed. she cuddles deeper into the covers, a sigh of content leaving her lips.

"oh, can it!" he rolls his eyes, despite there being a huge smile on his face.

☆

patrick's only been at the party for about twenty minutes and he's already bored out of his mind.

the place was packed, but nearly everyone was with their date, swaying and grinding together on the dance floor or passionately making out against the dimly lit walls.

the air buzzed with the thumping beat of the music and the heat of bodies pressed close, creating an atmosphere thick with youthful energy and desire.

a heavy hand slaps patrick's back, prompting a low growl as he prepares to pounce on whoever dared to touch him. to his surprise, he turns to see none other than henry bowers.

"why do you look so lost?" the mullet wearing boy slurs.

"i don't." patrick snaps, arms crossed over his chest and a frown now falling on his lips.

he wanted to be home. this party wasn't any fun without (n/n).

"oh, lemme guess. (y/n) already got tired of your sorry ass and is keeping her dista—"

"yo, patrick!" another voice shouts, barely audible over the bass-boosted music blasting through the house.

the lanky teen swivels once again, this time meeting eyes with beverly's sky blue ones.