Something Worth Fighting For (Patrick Stump Imagine Story)

You Love The Way He Lies

You're sitting in the bathroom with the door locked, the toilet seat closed as you lean forward, your phone in your hands.

You have your contacts open and you're staring at Patrick's name, biting your lip as your hands shake and tears blur your vision. The entire day behind you keeps running through your mind - the anxiety, the heartbreak, the gratitude, everything. But most importantly, what Pete said before the two of you left the courthouse.

"He's so full of bullshit. I don't know why you fall for it every time."

"You know he only did that - that whole 'visiting privileges' thing - because he wants to keep you around, right?"

Your finger hovers over the call button for a little before you toss your phone to the side and put your head in your hands, the tears you've been holding back spilling from your eyes and streaming down your cheeks. You gasp repeatedly as you try to draw air into your lungs, sliding off of the toilet seat and falling to your knees, leaning against the cabinets underneath the sink.

Pete, making his way down the bedroom hallway with a basket of his kids' clean laundry, hears your sobbing and retraces his steps. He sets the basket down on the ground and presses his ear to the door.

You continue to cry, unaware of Pete's presence literally feet away from you, the thin barrier giving you some sort of solace.

You sit back on your heels once you've calmed down and heave a shaky sigh. You rub your eyes like Gabby does before rising to your feet and staring into the mirror hanging on the wall. Mascara streaks your cheeks and the ring around your eyes is smudged, giving you a Pete-from-2005 appearance.

"Shit, (Y/N)," You whisper angrily to yourself as you cling onto the sink, "You've got to stop doing this to yourself. This is something you've been talking about this for a while now. And now that it's happened, you should be happy. Not miserable."

Pete turns away from the door and falls against it, closing his eyes and resting his head back.

"God, you're so stupid!" You start to beat yourself up verbally, punching your hand into the bathroom counter and almost immediately regretting it. You clutch your now-throbbing hand in your other one and hold it close to your chest, turning away from the sink and the mirror and beginning to pace back and forth. "So, so fucking stupid..."

Pete bites his lip, refraining from responding you and blowing his cover.

"You love Pete," You mumble in a desperate attempt to convince yourself, "You have ever since the two of you had that one 'sick day'. Patrick...he was just a distraction. Yeah, a distraction."

Your knees go weak and you sit down on the edge of the bathtub, putting your head in your hands and continuing in a hush voice, "A beautiful distraction you can't get out of your mind, no matter how hard you try. No matter how many times you tell yourself that you don't need him. That he's only caused you pain, and heartache, and mixed emotions every single day."

You sniffle and pause for a second before adding quietly, "Yet for some fucked up reason, you still love him. Even after everything, you still love him."

The bassist shakes his head and pulls himself away from the door, picking up the basket of laundry and walking away, preventing himself from doing something he'd surely regret.