Patrick munches merrily through a rare bowl of cereal, sat cross legged on top of the kitchen counter as he observes me making coffee. (I promise I do know how to make other things, like actual food, so we don't starve; I order online and get it delivered. Caffeine is just a needed luxury. So yes, I shall probably dedicate most of my life to making coffee. Moving on.)
Allie hasn't made an appearance yet, but we wanted to be awake and waiting just in case she decided to get up early and run our floorboards into the underground. The good news is, she hasn't. However, I have concerns that the ceiling might concave from whatever the hell she's been doing up there for the last half an hour.
Five minutes pass before she's stumbling down the staircase clutching at least six different items of hand luggage under her arms, her face full of makeup once again, though I don't believe she has anywhere special to go other than home. She dumps it all by the front door and rushes over to us, yanking the coffee - which I made for me - out of my hands and necking it in one go. "Sorry boys," she heaves. She shoves the empty mug back into my hands, which remain frozen in place, having not had time to register the precipitate action. "But I really have to get going."
"Oh," is the only thing I can think of to say. "Ok."
"I'm terrible, I know," she says. She leans over the counter to fondle Patrick's cheeks, mushing her red lips against his forehead. When she pulls away, a velvet impression of her mouth is left behind on his brow. "Little brother's in town," she clarifies. "We haven't exactly been on good terms recently, and I'd rather not bump into him."
She's the human equivalent of a spider (I'll let you figure out your own logic behind that one), and it seems like she's happy to invite herself out, so I stand back and let her get on with it. She scuttles back to her things, scooping it all back up into her arms, and makes a beeline for the front door. She unlocks and opens it effortlessly with a single stroke of her pinky finger.
"Hope everything goes ok with Lucas," Patrick calls after her. "Send our best to Elara."
"I will, my love. I'll be in touch!" Then she exits, shuts the door behind her, and she's gone.
I frown at the empty mug for a very long time. Then I look at Patrick, who continues to sit and shovel Cheerios into his mouth obliviously. "And exactly what the fuck just happened there?" I question.
Swallowing his mouthful, Patrick sets down his bowl and pushes it casually to one side. He then crawls to the edge of the counter to meet me, using my shoulders for support as he pulls himself up onto his knees. Finally, he coaxes the mug from my hands and places it aside, before leaning in and kissing me slowly, stealing away any discomfort.
I nibble the curve of his bottom lip, sighing against wet skin. "Can't you just bunk off work tonight?"
"I wish," he titters. "But unfortunately the world must be against us."
"Isn't it always?"
Our bodies sway to silent music. We are alone together again, if only for a short while. That's all that should matter right now.
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амега (peterick)
Fanfic"Everything about you is perfect, Down to your blood type, But I remember every time."
