Patrick opened the door with his foot, holding a piece of dark chocolate between his teeth, and carrying a large pallet of juiceboxes in his arms.
"Hey Pete! We have to go, pretty quick so get your stuff and get in the car."
Pete sat up.
"What did you do this time?"
"Nothing. But it's getting late, and I need to get to Hartford ASAP."
"Where's Hartford?"
"Connecticut. Next state over. Let's go."
Ten minutes later, they had returned to the car. Pete was playing with his dead phone. Patrick was being a careful driver. Pete put down the phone and mused:
"I'm hungry. Is there anything I can eat?"
"Pete give me two minutes."
"Can vampires yawn? Is that a thing?"
"Pete, I'm trying not to die here."
A minute's silence and then:
"Do you speak latin?"
Patrick gritted his teeth.
"Testor Deum sic loquar Latine clausus non vos peius carnificare."
Pete looked taken aback. It then changed to suspicion.
"Are you just making up words?"
"Nil ego sum."
"Stop talking funny languages!"
Finally out on the freeway, Patrick looked over at him.
"Stop speaking funny languages. And you asked me if I could speak Latin so I did."
"What did you say?"
"Learn it yourself."
Pete folded his arms and rested his head against the window. He cried a slight bit more, silently. Patrick was oblivious, of course. He wouldn't care even if he did notice.
"I'm hungry." Pete grumbled.
"Get a juicebox." Patrick replied, staring straight ahead.
"I mean I'm hungry."
"Again. Get a juicebox. I got them for a reason."
"How many did you get?"
"Thirty. Now get one before you try to eat me and I'm forced to leave you at the side of the road."
Pete reached into the back and pulled one out of the cellophane wrap. He punctured the tiny circle of plastic among the cardboard with the straw and brought it up to his lips.
Patrick sighed very heavily, purposefully blocking out the sound of Pete's moan. He looked over in annoyance.
"It's only blood, Pete."
"I know... but it tastes so good."
"Chocolate tastes good too, but I don't make intensely sexual noises while eating it."
"You do!"
"I don't. "
"You do! You were eating chocolate yesterday and you were all like mhmm oohhh mmm oh gimme that good stuff mhm mhm oh yeaaaa." Pete said, miming Patrick eating his chocolate bar with a great amount of twisting and lip biting. It was a pretty accurate impression. Patrick glared.
"I do not sound like that."
"You do."
"I don't. "
"You so do." Pete said, sipping sassily on the straw of his juicebox. Patrick rolled his eyes.
"Whatever you say, Peter."
"Don't call me Peter."
"I'll call you whatever I want."
"Not Peter."
"Peter."
"Stahp."
"Fine."
"Thanks."
Patrick glanced over slyly.
"What about... Princess?"
"What?"
"That's your name now."
"No! My name's Pete!"
"Princess Pete then."
"Like Mario."
"Like Mario."
Pete nodded, happily, still suckling on his juicebox like a hungry kid, of the goatlike variety. He flicked the radio on.
Because I'm in so deep...
You know I'm such a fool for you,
You've got me wrapped around your finger,
Do you have to let it linger,
Do you have to,
Do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?
Pete sang along, even though he didn't know the words. Patrick smiled.
"Nice song."
"The Cranberries." Pete yawned.
"Tired?"
"Not really." He said, a yawn caught from his own reflection in the window betraying his lie. Patrick smiled.
"We'll be stopping in a few hours... but if you want to catch up on some sleep you can go ahead."
"Yes please."
"Do what you want."
It was almost 3 hours later when Pete spoke up again. They were nearing the state line.
"Hey Patrick." He said groggily. Patrick looked around, a square of dark chocolate crunching between his incisors. He flinched, but the taste of the bittersweet concoction made him forget the small pain almost instantly. Pete had woken up and was clutching his hoodie to his chest, attempting to open his eyes with a precious smile that wouldn't have looked out of place if Pete was wearing a flowercrown.
"What's up?" Patrick asked.
"Are you a bat?" Pete countered, his eyes still lightly shut. Patrick shook his head confusedly, a smile rolling on the corners of his mouth like the ends of a parchment scroll.
"No. I'm not." He answered, but regardless, Pete barrelled on speaking without waiting for Patrick to finish.
"Because I love you."
Patrick sighed and took another bite of the chocolate.
"No you don't."
Pete yawned.
"Yeah."
"Yeah you don't or yeah you do?"
"Yeah... the last one."
Patrick swallowed the chocolate.
"You're still sleep deprived, Princess." He said, driving on into the night.
YOU ARE READING
Archaic ||Peterick||
Fiksi PenggemarPete was a vampire. Patrick was a hunter. Patrick wanted Pete dead. Pete fell in love. Or Vampires do exist. They're needy psychopaths, who feed on blood and fear. They're dangerous. They're to be avoided at all costs. Pete Wentz is one of them...
