She was the perfect fuel to his fire, a harmonious combination of gasoline and red hot flames. Hand in hand, they would burn together.
Patrick Hockstetter fanfic
Slight! Bowers gang x original character
CONTAINS STRONG THEMES BE WARNED.
I do not ow...
I made her a necklace out of telephone chord Hanging from the ceiling, she opened the door Choking on vomit, had blood in my eyes Smiled at my baby, said "I won't survive." ~ The Orwell's
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The whole day, Patrick seemed to be everywhere Olive was whether it be in majority of her classes or lurking around corners, just watching her. Even during lunch, when she sat with Issie he had his eyes solely on her across the cafeteria where he sat with the guys. She didn't even spy him eating anything. He just stared at her.
"Is is just me or is Hockstetter giving you the eye?" Olive's friend whispered to her as Olive finished off some of her geometry homework. The ginger girl cowered as Patrick's eyes flickered to her and narrowed.
Olive shook her head and stopped writing, tapping her pen on the table.
" just try and ignore him, that's what I've been doing all day."
Issabel never asked her friend about what happened a few days prior. Even though she could blurt things out sometimes, she knew it would be far too inappropriate.
"But everyone's talking about it, Olive. The psycho's been following you all day and it's beginning to go around that you're dating or something..."
Olive pursed her lips and gave Issie a stern look.
"Don't be so absurd. I wouldn't date that creep even if he held me at gun point. It's just... a brief infatuation. Yeah. That's all it is. I'm sure he'll find some other poor girl to torment in a couple of days."
Issie gulped.
"I don't know about that. Quick, he's coming over. I'll talk to you later!" She hurried that last part, grabbing her backpack and standing, nearly bumping into the boy who now stood over them both. Patrick and the small ginger girl made eye contact and he gave her a look.
"What you waiting for? Fuck off."
Issie made a noise that was most akin to a squeak before scuttling away, curly locks bouncing as she went.
