Chapter Six

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A few hours later, Patrick was softly snoring next to me. I got up and out of bed to look out the window. As I expected, my parents were home. I pulled the curtains closed and locked my bedroom door. If my mom came in to check on me, I didn't want her to see Patrick. Especially in my bed. I never told her he was the reason I stayed inside all day. I think she just assumed it was a moody teenager phase. 

With the curtains blocking all sunlight from coming in, my room was pitch black. I crawled back in next to Patrick and rested my cheek on his shoulder. I thought he was still sleeping, so when he said something it startled me.

"Oh, hey." He turned on his side and faced me. His voice was a little deeper than usual due to just waking up. My stomach fluttered at the thought of waking up next to him and getting to hear that voice everyday. 

"Hi." I whispered back. I felt his hand touch my cheek. His thumb traced the curve of my cheekbone, and sent shivers down my spine. 

"Even in the dark you're beautiful." I couldn't help but blush. I thought of how other people must see me. Deep red hair, brown eyes, pale skin and a light splash of freckles across my nose. I had never been told I was beautiful. Patrick always had a way of making me feel special.

Our moment was interrupted by a knock on my door. We both jumped.

"Bree? Are you awake?" My dad yelled through the door. My eyes grew wide with fear. I put my finger to my lips and made a soft shh sound. A few seconds later, we heard his footsteps retreat from the door. 

"What was that all about?" Patrick whispered.

"I don't know, he sounded mad though." My dad rarely ever yelled. Unless I was in trouble. I was trying to think of something I had done wrong recently, when it came to me. "Patrick, where are your shoes?"

He swore. "By the front door." 

I put my hand to my forehead in a quiet facepalm. "He's gonna kill me."

Imagine coming home to find a boy's shoes by your door, only to have your daughter's door locked. With the lights off. I can't imagine how mad he must be. Would he even believe me if I told him all we did was sleep? I mean, it was the truth.

"I should probably go. I really don't want to make him more mad than he aready is." The blankets rustled as Patrick moved to stand up.

I threw out my arm to stop him. He laid back down.

"If you're going to leave, you should probably wait until he's cooled down a bit."

"Or I could go through the window."

"Patrick, we're on the second floor. And you don't have shoes."

"Right. What if we just told him the truth?"

My mind backtracked into what I was just thinking a minute ago. "If you want to I guess." He jumped up and flipped on the light.

"You should probably get dressed." I looked down and realized I was wearing an old t-shirt and baggy shorts. I was instantly embarrassed.

"True." He laughed as I grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom. When I was finished changing, we stood by the door. Taking a deep breath, I opened it and walked downstairs. I walked into the living room where my dad was sitting on the couch watching tv. Patrick followed.

"Hi dad." I said, giving him a weak smile. "Did you want something?"

He looked us over, but didn't say anything. He turned back towards the tv and continued watching. I looked back at Patrick as he lifted one eyebrow in confusion.

"I assumed those were your shoes." My dad stared at the tv. "What were you kids doing up there? Why didn't you answer?" His voice was monotone.

"We were just taking a nap, we've had a rough couple of days." It was the truth. I hoped he believed it.

"Hm." Was all he said in response.

"Really Sir, that's all we were doing, I swear." Patrick moved to stand in front of me but I held him back.

My dad studied us once again. "Ok, I believe you." I drew my head back in surprise and crinkled my eyebrows. I wasn't expecting him to say that right off the bat.

He turned up the volume on the tv with the remote. "Go on now, you're interrupting my show." We stood still for a moment before walking back up the stairs. With Patrick in front of me, I looked down at my dad one more time. He caught my eye and winked. His mouth turned up in a slight smile. I couldn't help but laugh. He was just giving us a hard time on purpose.

We shut the door behind us and sat back down on my bed. We sat in silence for a while before I finally said something.

"I Can't Help Falling In Love With You is one of my favorite songs." I said, not meeting his eyes. I picked at my fingernails.

He straightened. Probably embarrassed that he had sang to me. Probably hoping I didn't remember.

"Oh. It...just felt right at the time." He leaned back against the wall and folded his hands on his lap and tapped the tips of his fingers together.

"You have a beautiful voice." I said softly. His fingers stopped.

"No, I don't sing. I just, did that..for you I guess."

I blew out a fast breath. "Yeah right. Nobody does something that good and then claims they can't sing." I finally looked over at him.

He shrugged and put his arm around me. I smiled and leaned my head on his shoulder. Everything was finally turning out okay. But the sweetness never lasts, you know.





------Comment if you caught that sick FOB reference ;)  And I decided to change it, so if you read this part before this edit, then just ignore everything and reread pls. :)



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