°•Peterick Oneshots•°

°•Unspoken•°

Y'all have probably read something like this before but oh well

•°☆•°

Patrick isn't listening, of course he usually doesn't, but you would think in the middle of an interview, he would tune in with his surroundings long enough to answer a damn question.

He snaps back into reality when a small pile of polaroids is plunked down on the small coffee table in front of him. The interviewer gives him a brief smile before carrying on with what she was saying.

" - and in this stack are the 'favourite things about your band-mates' polaroids. They should be in alphabetical order, okay?"

Patrick returns the smile and nods his head, hoping he doesn't look as lost as he feels.

Just follow the instructions, can't be that hard, right?

Wrong.

He labels the polaroids with everyone's names so he wouldn't get the pics messed up and then pauses. The first two are very simple to write about. He takes one look and Joe's and writes a very simple 'Hilarious' next to his name. Andy gets 'Good heart'. Of course both statements are vague, but at least they're true.

When he gets to Pete's polaroid, he stalls.

He looks over at Pete, who is seated across from him. Pete doesn't seem to be having any problems with his polaroids, in fact, his polaroids have all been stacked in a nice, neat pile next to him. Finished without a problem and scrolling away on his phone.

Patrick sighs and considers what he could possibly write.

'He forces me to believe in myself even when I don't want to. He's the light that I've been needing.'

'He's the asshole that took my virginity."

No, someone would actually take that seriously.

'He is the only person I trust with being able to but my words into lyrics. The only person I know who can interpret my stuttering into meaning.'

Ugh. Definitely not.

'He's the most stable thing in my life, the person I turn to when I'm down. I wouldn't be here without him.'

'My best friend.'

Really, Patrick? Second grade called, they want there friendship charms back.

'He is the most defining force in my life. When I'm floating, he's the one that grounds me. He is my gravity, my magnetic pole and my life line all in one.'

Patrick tries his best not to face palm, or slam his head against the table or start screaming.

Anything Patrick can think of about Pete just doesn't...fit. Of course Pete is all of those things, but he's so, so, much more than that as well. What Pete is, and continues to be every single passing day, can't simply be put into words. He's Pete. He contains multitudes of worlds and words within him that can't be explained.

And there is definitely not enough space on the fucking polaroid to begin to explain what Pete means to him. Not even a fraction of it.

Pete would know what to say. Of course he would. He has the supernatural ability to pull words from feelings in the forms of metaphors and sentences so accurate and horrifyingly beautiful that it never ceases to amaze Patrick.