Archaic ||Peterick||

Seasonal Depression

Pete sat at the desk, shifting awkwardly. He had discarded the filthy jumper the second they had exited the house, now leaving him in his skin tight khaki top. He scratched at the sharpied 'I AM A MONSTER'. He had wrote it on the shirt after he'd been bitten.

Pete stared at Patrick uncomfortably. Patrick was hunched over on the bed, crying into his hands. "Are you... okay..?"

Patrick didn't speak.

Pete puffed out his cheeks and let his eyes dance around the room as something to entertain him. He rubbed up and down his thighs, not knowing what to do with himself.

Pete slowly got up and crept over to Patrick. He sank down onto the bed beside him. He snaked his arm around Patrick's shoulder, which Patrick shoved off.

He gently blew his fringe out of his eyes and decided that he needed to straighten his hair. He got up and sidled out the door, knowing Patrick wasn't in the mood to entertain him and he didn't want to anger Patrick. He clicked the door shut behind him. He set off in search for a straightener.

He wandered around the motel, being hit by nearly everyone that opened the door. He forgot it was nearly four am. To say the least, he came up empty handed and a little downhearted. He supposed he hadn't really thought it through, he never thought anything through.

He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his skinny jeans to see what he had to work with. He looked at the years old receipt for green tea kitkats and whined. He wanted kitkats. Patrick probably didn't even like kitkats.

Pete pulled out his dead phone and decided on a new mission: plug it in and text.. what had been her name? Noodle. That was it. She probably liked kitkats, Pete thought smugly.

He stalked about the motel until he padded into the barely lit reception area. He stood at the counter for a while before realising no one was going to show up and cater for his needs.

He walked behind the desk and let out a sound resembling a happy squeak. He lunged forward and stabbed the charger into his phone.

"Pretty sure you don't work here."

Pete jumped. His head snapped up, his eyes meeting Noodles'.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He panted, holding his heart.

She let out a soft laugh "maybe I am." She winked.

Pete then made the decision he knew he would regret. He stood up and smiled.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"What about your boyfriend I saw you come in with?"

"....he's not my boyfriend."

"Well then let's go." She said, smiling. Pete followed her out.

*

Two weeks. Two weeks of being in young, dumb love. A quick, fleeting crush, that kept fading and returning. Empty-headed nights that Pete couldn't remember, for all the drugs, the drink or just the sheer overwhelming emotion of it all.

Now Pete was alone. He didn't even get to charge his phone. He was outside, the sun only mere minutes away from rising.

Pete needed to find Patrick. He couldn't be that far away, hopefully. Pete did the only thing left to do. He turned into a bat.

He flew up, small pained squeaks admitting from him. He had forgotten about his injured wing. Now he was flying sideways.

He looked around for sign of Patrick's car anywhere but was out of luck. He let out a desperate squeak. He felt himself falling and gave in to it. He felt the black, sticky blood oozing from his arm.

He landed in a ditch in human form. He broke down into sobs. He just wanted his Patrick.

He felt the rays of the sun hitting his face and accepted it. He lay there, remembering past summers when he could enjoy the daytime. He remembered him. Mikey. He remembered water fights and sneaking off.

He felt himself burning. He smiled through the pain.

"Love you, Patty," he mumbled and blew a kiss to the sun.

He turned his head to the side and watched as his finger tips turned to ash.

"Pete? Pete! Pete?!"

Patrick jumped out of his car and ran over. Pete grinned at him lazily.

"Patty!"

Pete lifted his hands, which were mostly ash, to him. Patrick cursed and quickly picked him up.

"What were you thinking?! You are so getting it when you heal up!"

Pete just sent him a tired wink. He thought he loved someone new. But it seemed that everyone he loved hated him right back.

"Are you okay?" Patrick asked.

"Patrick..."

"What?"

"I love you."

Patrick was quiet for a minute.

"Shut up, idiot." He replied, harshly.