Lucky Penny [h.s.]

5.

TW: mentions of physical and emotional abuse

Penelope.

The second Harry left our house, Patrick removed his hands from around my waist and increased the distance between us.

I was still breathless from the kiss we just shared. It wasn't all that much, but feeling his tongue roll around with mine was something that happened so few times in the past that it made me all tingly and dizzy.

There was definitely a heat between my legs from being this close to Patrick and I wished so badly that he would act upon it. I would in no way object if he wanted to take me right here in this fucking kitchen. In fact, I'd beg for it if I thought I had a shot.

But I knew I didn't.

He got annoyed with me whenever I tried something. He always claimed I was obsessed with sex just because I brought up the topic to him every once in a while.

I had stopped though, many months ago. It got too hard to deal with his rejection to the point where I felt incredibly insecure around Patrick. Even though he had never seen me naked, I felt judged beneath his eyes when he glanced me up and down.

"You were in the kitchen with Harry wearing that?" He spoke condescendingly. I looked down to my own outfit, seeing the rather tight shorts and oversized T-shirt, "These are my pyjamas." I wore Dave's old university T-shirt to bed most nights.

"You're practically naked!" Patrick exclaimed and I crossed my arms in front of my chest in an attempt to hide myself before shrugging, "Sorry. I had no idea he was here, I didn't think about changing into something else before I came down."

"You could've gone upstairs again to change after seeing him here." He hissed with a frown, "Makes me think you want him to look. You want him, don't you?"

My eyes widened dramatically, "What?! No – Patrick, no. I don't. Please, don't start with this again." I pleaded, palming my forehead. It had been such a lovely morning. Waking up next to Patrick felt like a dream, and I had admired the muscles in his back after he had discarded of his shirt sometime during the night.

We woke up on opposite sides of the mattress, Patrick wasn't that big of a cuddler. Still, it felt nice to have another body in the bed that was made for two. I wished he stayed over more often.

And then I had a nice chat with Harry downstairs, spilling a lot about my mother and he made me feel understood and heard. It was nice. I felt like him and I had a good vibe and we got along well.

"He's seeing you like this?!" Patrick gestured up and down my form, "I thought that was for my eyes only?"

I rolled my eyes, "It's not like you ever look."

"Don't roll your fucking eyes at me, Pen. And don't give me that smart mouth and attitude." He held his finger up in a threatening way and I quickly shut my mouth. Any ounce of happiness that I had felt after waking up this morning disappeared when I had yet another argument with Patrick.

I let out a breath, "I'm sorry."

He dropped his finger but his glare was still going strong. It was so heavy that I dropped my eyes, unable to hold his eyesight when he looked at me like that. He looked so disappointed and I hated it.

"I'm just so tired of having this same argument over and over again. I don't know how to prove to you that you can trust me, that I'd never do anything to hurt you." I tried and Patrick shook his head, "You can prove it to me by not walking around like a whore in the presence of other men."