Misunderstandings (Patrick Stump FanFiction)

Chapter 8

        Patrick had dropped the remote against the table and was now staring at me, deep in thought. I forced myself to look him in the eye, but when I did he simply got up and went upstairs. I gulped. Should I go up and say something? My body reacted before my brain could. A second later I was up the stairs and in front of his office. I took three deep breaths before turning the knob and opening the door. He didn't hear me come in so he was hard at work typing on his computer. I looked closer and noticed he was on Twitter. Really? He won't talk to me, but he'll gladly talk to fans? I love you too Patrick.

        “Patrick,” I saw his whole body stiffen and tense up. He ceased his typing but didn't look at me,“why are you angry with me?”I stood there for a moment, anticipating an answer, but there was nothing other than silence. The silence gave way to him continuing to type. I felt tears start to make their way to the surface of my eyes. I blinked to try and get them to go back, but a few rolled down my cheeks and to the floor. “Fine. Sorry for whatever I did...” I ran out of the room, slamming the door in the process, and went to the bedroom to grab my shoes. It was hard to put them on; my hands were shaking and my vision was blurry through all the tears that streamed steadily down my face. Finally, I managed to get them. I threw off his jacket and realized I was still wearing his shirt. I threw that off too. I threw on one of my old hoodies, even though it was Fall Out Boy, it didn't remind me of Patrick with it smelling like fabric softener and I couldn't see the logo unless I looked down.

        I walked out of the room, reaching the stairs in no time, and looked back at the office. Patrick was standing in the doorway. I couldn't take it, his stare was boring a huge hole into me. He parted his lips as if to start saying something but I was out the front door before he could utter any noise.

        I drove. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't care. Just so happened I ended up by Pete's house. Would it be okay for me to just show up like this? My body went on auto pilot again and I blinked to find myself knocking on his door. He answered it with no time to spare and beamed at me. I looked at him, the tears stopped rolling but I knew my eyes were still red and puffy and you could see the shiny tracks of the drops on my cheeks still, and his face fell. He didn't say anything, he just spread his arms open. I practically collapsed into the hug as the sobs started back up.

        We stood there in the doorway, him holding me and me sobbing into his neck, until my breathing came back to a sort of steady pace and sudden breaths weren't making my body jerk.

        “Here, come inside, get out of the cold.” He changed position so only one of his arms was around my shoulders and he led me into the living room where I curled up on the couch. “So, I'm guessing these aren't happy tears?” I shook my head at his question and felt myself about to start crying again. “Hm...” He mumbled something under his breath and pushed his eyebrows together while pulling out his phone. I turned so my face was in my knees; I didn't want him to see me cry anymore.

        I heard him tapping the screen on his phone furiously. “What happened?” I felt his stare on me even before he finished speaking. I wiped my eyes against my sleeve and turned to face him. His voice was stern but his eyes were soft.

        “I don't know... I woke up and Patrick was gone... then when he came home...” My breathing started getting shaky and Pete came closer to pull me in for a hug. He whispered 'sh' very quietly in my ear until my breathing calmed back down. He didn't release fully from the hug, he kept an arm around my shoulder in a side hug to keep the contact and security. “When he got home... he seemed upset with me. He wouldn't hug me back right away, smile, look at me, talk to me, nothing... Then he flat out refused to tell me anything when I asked him what was wrong... I couldn't stand to be around someone who I love so much but hates me, so I came here...” I looked up at him. “It's my fault, I was too clingy last night when he came home. I shouldn't have been. It's my fault... I fucked everything up... The one person I've ever loved...” I pulled away from him and allowed myself to fall over so I was lying in a fetal position on my side of the couch.

        I felt the couch underneath me fall slightly as he got up and started pacing the room. I heard his phone buzz in his pocket and curled up tighter into a ball, this time not covering my eyes. I watched him walk back and forth. Somehow, it was soothing. But his face made me even more distraught; with every new text, his face would contort into an expression of anger, sadness, and confusion. Probably what mine looks like. He stopped pacing for a minute and anger flashed on his face. I almost asked what was wrong but he started pacing again right before I opened my mouth. He pushed his phone into his pocket after a few minutes of tapping and sat in a chair next to the end of the couch; it was on an angle so I could still watch him and he could do the same to me. I didn't like it.