"Good night, son"
"Good night father" I replied.
I roll out of bed, open my window and climb down. I need to find him. Where the hell is Patrick?
I begin my walk down to the junkyard. Where the fuck is he!? I swear to god if he isn't here.
"Hello… Bowers…" his hand rests on my shoulder.
"What the fuck dude you scared me!"
"Relax dude seriously you don't need to be so uptight" he laughs applying pressure to my shoulder.
He leans in closer to me. I can feel his breath on my neck.
Patrick's other hand slides down my side. Suddenly everything seems alright. His hand slides under my shirt.
He presses his lips against the base of my neck. His breath is warm against my skin. I can feel him tugging at my shirt.
He slides my shirt over my head and lets it fall to the ground.
~~~later~~~
I begin climbing up to my room. I pull myself through the window without waking up my father.
I can't stop thinking about him. His touch. His voice. His everything.
Fuck.
I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want to catch feelings.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here I am again walking to meet Patrick after dark. Why the hell am I doing this?I don't know. I really don't.
"Partrick, I'm here"
"Take this" he throws me a sweatshirt " we are going for a walk. I don't want to hear you complain about the cold."
I recognize the sweatshirt. It's the one he used to wear all the time at school.
I pull the sweatshirt over my head. It smells like him.
"Hurry up"
He grabs my hand and pulls me through the woods.
"Where the hell are we going?"
"You'll see"
Will I? Where are we going? He has a firm grasp on my hand. My brain has gone foggy I can't think right.
"Here we are" he gestures to a slightly run down building.
"Why are we here?"
