When Violence Ensues: Slenderverse Short Stories.

Story Seventy Four: I'm a teenage mess, but you hide it better.

"You are such a strange individual." Patrick sighed, as HABIT leaned off of the bed, staring at the taller teenager from upside down,

"I'm bored." HABIT whined in response, "I wanna do somethin' fun."

"Your version of fun and safety are two very different scenarios." Patrick mused, shaking his head in an amused manner as the messy other rolled his eyes and slid off of the bed, crashing onto the floor just mere metres from the blonde male,

"Killjoy." HABIT grumbled, resorting to just simply lying on the dark wooden floor of Patrick's bedroom. This was where he tended to spend quite a lot of his time – hanging out with Patrick in his bedroom. It was the most peaceful place within the confines of Fairmount.

Patrick's room represented him. It was neat- all clothes were folded and put in the closet that stood against the wall opposite the bed, the duvet on his bed was laid precisely, tidily; and yet, there was a cosiness to the room that HABIT couldn't really describe.

Despite its neatness, it was deceivingly messy.

Patrick's mind was chaotic, which was most likely why everything else about him was as tidy as it could get. Things that the teenager could control, were orderly.

One cannot control their mind, especially if it is dark.

HABIT knew well, just how dark the taller's mind could get, especially at night.

"Well, what would you like to do, that won't result in death or grievous bodily harm?" Patrick questioned, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he observed HABIT gaze at the ceiling- utterly bored. Honestly, the brown haired teenager couldn't even sit still for two minutes, so why was he surprised that he was bored?

HABIT pulled himself up from the dark wooden floor and glanced to his best friend, tilting his head gently from side to side as he contemplated his options. Frankly, around Fairmount, there was not much to do. Of course, there was the courtyard, the recreational room, the canteen area. Apart from that? The library was another place; however the shorter teenager despised the library.

The silence made him uncomfortable.

"I don't know," HABIT began dejectedly, "There's not really much to do. Unless you're getting into fights or screwing with the staff." He finished, as Patrick resorted to moving over to the other and wrapping his arms around him, pulling him into a hug,

"I could always just hug you for a while!" Patrick chuckled, as HABIT yelped and attempted to wriggle away to no avail. A sigh fell from the short teenager's lips, as he folded his arms against his chest and rolled his eyes as the blonde male beamed at him, "Well, how about we go for a walk while you figure it out, hm?"

"I guess." HABIT muttered, before trying to escape the hug once more, "Can you let go of me so I can stand?"

"Afraid not." Patrick chuckled mischievously, before quickly pulling himself to his feet and dragging the shorter teenager with him- and once again wrapping his arms around him. Groaning with protest, HABIT gave in and simply resorted to keeping his arms by his sides,

"How am I supposed to walk? Seriously!"

"Who said you would be the one walking?" Patrick challenged with a smirk riding on his lips, before swiftly lifting HABIT into his arms and carrying him out of the room. Inhaling sharply and wriggling in response, HABIT soon came to realise that wriggling as aggressively as he was would only result in him being dropped- which would hurt. Ceasing to fight, the male rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest as he verbally protested,

"You're actually the worst individual like what the fuck-" HABIT vented, as Patrick simply laughed and shook his head as he walked down the hallway after exiting his room,

"You are quite hilarious!"

"Yeah you think I'm funny now? Keep fuckin' talkin', hotshot." The smaller mused, sulking.

From down the corridor, Winona and Ruth observed as Patrick gracefully carried HABIT towards the recreational room, a smile pulling at his lips.

Winona couldn't help but chuckle as Ruth rolled her eyes, "Seems like Patrick's not scared anymore."

"HABIT hasn't given him a reason to be, yet." The dark haired nurse sighed in response, before a chuckle escaped her own lips, "HABIT just seems so angry." Ruth spoke, with amusement as her girlfriend stifled a laugh, observing as HABIT just accepted his fate.

Patrick opened the door to the recreational room and gently set HABIT down, seemingly entertained by the scowl written on the shorter teenager's features, "Now, was that not fun?"

"Never do that again." HABIT scoffed, rolling his eyes once more and resorting to sitting on the floor by the piano, pressing his back against the wall.

He was familiar with this room- He'd always hear the soft melodies from the piano late at night. It was usually Patrick playing those melodies, he could play piano in a way that HABIT just had not heard before. There was emotion behind every note, a thought behind every song.

Patrick was quite phenomenal in that regard; he felt emotions very deeply and personally.

The taller blonde took his place at the piano, sitting on the chair and letting his fingers glide gently across the keys, "I know you watch me play." He softly stated, catching the other off guard,

"Huh? Since when? Usually I'm asleep." HABIT retorted, unconvincingly. Shit.

Patrick gave a light laugh, and raised an eyebrow in question as he glanced to the other male, "That was defensive. Shall I play a song now?"

HABIT seemed to perk up at the suggestion, and sat with his legs crossed as he thought of all of the melodies he'd heard Patrick play before- one sticking in his mind as he recalled it from a few nights prior,

"The one you played a few nights ago!"

"Oh, In The House, In A Heartbeat?" The blonde asked, "The one from 28 Weeks Later?"

"Yeah, that one! It's fuckin' cool." HABIT responded happily, his mood completely shifted. His attention was now fully focused on his best friend and the grand piano.

Patrick gave a shy smile, and adjusted his posture- back straight, hands preparing to begin the tune. After a few brief moments of silence, the haunting notes echoed from the piano, quietly but surely. This particular song was written to be incredibly haunting- perhaps this was why HABIT enjoyed it so much. There was a dark atmosphere that the song brought with it, a stifling loneliness and unease.

Now, HABIT was not one for pianos and delicate instruments- but Patrick had somehow enraptured him with the pure and raw emotions- the beauty of his playing.

The concentration on his face.

The pain in his eyes.

Yes, perhaps pianos and delicate instruments could be just as angry, just as powerful as screaming guitars.

Patrick had taught him that the quietest of melodies could often symbolise the most pain.

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