I&P ♔ bowers gang [1]

IMAGINE ♔ patrick hockstetter

TITLE: hot and cold
WORDCOUNT: 1,214
WARNING: saD ASF

. . . . .

"Hello, again, Y/n." Her slick and well organized voice echoed into the empty room. I gave her a tight-lipped smile before taking my usual seat in the black leather, cushioned chair that sat in front of the mahogany wood desk. Papers littered the top of the desk, and a lamp was placed in the right corner. It was turned on, as always.

"So," the woman in her late forties began. She sat back in her rolling chair and crossed one leg over the other, pushing the rim of her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "How has this week been for you?"

I gave Mrs. Bueller a casual shrug. "Like the rest have been, I guess."

Her long, strawberry blonde (but graying at the roots) hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, not a single strand was out of place. She wore her usual black, fitting dress that reached down to just right above her knees. "Oh, really?" She gave me a 'knowing look'. "Because I specifically remember your mother giving me a call yesterday about an incident that happened the other night."

My face dropped and I looked down. I really didn't want this to be brought up, mostly because remembering this drove me to tears that I'd never had before. Tears that weren't like the others. "Oh..." was all I could get out.

"Would you like to tell me about it?" Mrs. Bueller reached for her yellow note-pad on the desk and a pen, clicking it so the tip would come out.

I wanted to say no, but the look on her face told me that I didn't have a choice. I had to talk about it, even if it'd kill me. I took a deep breath, "Well, it happened the other night. It wasn't like most nights, it was different for once. I didn't wake up in the middle of the night screaming, with tears as usual." I gave her a quick glance, and she nodded her head at me. Telling me to continue. "Instead, I slept the whole night. Actually, I slept in. And when I woke up, I didn't scream in agony, but instead I silently let out a few tears."

"I'm guessing you had a different dream than usual? It wasn't the memory of seeing him die?"

I shook my head in answer. "No, it was a different memory." I stopped to swallow the lump that had built up in my throat. "It was another memory, the memory of when we shared our first kiss together."

"And what made this moment so special? Besides, the first kiss?"

"Because it was the night that P-Pa-" tears began to well up and I reached a hand up to wipe one away. I still couldn't even say his name without breaking down. "He had actually opened up about everything in his life. It was the first time that I had ever seen him cry." I had to grab a tissue from the box on her desk. "He told about his home life, secrets that he'd kept his whole life, how he actually felt and what he thought was his purpose in life." For a second, I almost blurted out that Patrick had told me about his brother, about what he had did to him, but I stopped myself quickly.

"I held him while he cried on my shoulder, and at that moment I realized something." Mrs. Bueller cocked an eyebrow at me. "I realized that him and I were connected. That we were meant to be. I mean, of course I had always liked him, but at that moment I knew that I loved him. That we were paired together for a reason."

"And what do you think that reason was?" She asked without looking up from her pad, the pen gliding across the lined sheet.

I pondered over the question for a moment, and instead of directly answering it I lead the answer on. "Everyone has a soulmate, whether that soulmate is equal to you or completely opposite from you isn't up to you. For Patrick and I, we were complete opposites." Not only did I surprise my counselor, but also myself by saying Patrick's name without stumbling over the word. "I was the one to show him some warmth in his cold world, and he was the one to me the coolness in my simmering world... and I think that's what made us so compatible. Nobody thought we'd work out, trying to put a soggy and broken puzzle piece together with a perfect and dry one just wouldn't fit. They were wrong though, 'cause with just a tiny bit of glue you could make any two puzzle pieces fit together." My tears had stopped and I had a slightly, tiny smile showing, remembering how happy I was when I was with Patrick.

"If you believe that that is so true, then why do you think the world would take Patrick away from you? Why do you believe he died so suddenly and tragically, after just finding the perfect per- soulmate for himself?" Her words stabbed my heart, and it was almost like she was against me instead of trying to help me.

"Because in this said 'perfect' world, there's hatred and pain that lie underneath. And when people saw how perfectly happy and compatible Patrick and I were together, they got jealous and knew that we were a force to be not be reckoned with. When people are in pain, they want others to feel the same pain that they're in. That's why they murdered him." A burning sensation sparked throughout my body as I remembered Patrick's beaten, bloodied, and lifeless body. Surrounding him were five other men, one of which was Patrick's father, and they all held either knives or bats, or anything that could be used as a weapon. His father said their motive was that they knew how much of a crazed, lunatic Patrick was and the damage he could/had done to this world, and that he loved Patrick so much that he had to 'release' him from this damned world.

In reality, I believe that Patrick's parents found out about how his younger brother truly died, and they wanted revenge, feeling hatred toward their older son. Although, I'd never admit that, and neither would they.

Mrs. Bueller noticed my 'in-outer-space' look and looked at me questioningly, then quickly jabbed something down into her note-pad. Her eyes wondered to the clock, then she looked back at me, slight disappointment showed on her facial features. She pursed her lips, "It seems we're out of time. When you come back next week, I'd definitely like to hear more of this... theory."

I nodded my head at her and stood up. I told her bye, then walked out the door and for the first time since Patrick's death I actually felt a bit of relief wash through my body.

. . . . .
[idk how to feel about this, cause i feel like it's confusing as hell and you guys don't understand what's going on, but then again idk
also, my first patrick imagine and it's sad oOF SORRY
ps any requests are being worked on atm]