Patrick Stump x Reader

...And All I Got Was A Stupid Song Written About Me

Sticky white snow, clinging to every inch of your body it could grasp with its icy fingers. Nonetheless, you'd swear this touch would be warmer than Patrick's. The thought of him alone was enough to freeze your heart, just like your breath right now. Straining to hear for any movement or such but the small corner of the store you were hiding in was absolutely silent. You wonder how long you could stay here. Would Pete eventually come out to try and find you or would they keep driving, abandoning you just like Patrick did?

Bitter cold. Shaky breath. You turned your head to try and make out the figures in the distance. The fuzzy lights mess with your vision. Is that just one figure? Squint harder but work out who the silhouette belonged to was near impossible. Damn Patrick's short stature. And damn his entire existence too. You debated staying here rather than going back to the van. It was probably her, whoever she was.

Your eyes are still stinging, both from the cold and tears. Honestly, you don't know how long you've been laying here. It feels like hours but your brain tells you it's probably been no more than half. You don't know. It's a war between both sides. Feeling crippled but still determined, you shift your body weight trying to get up from the ground. 

Eventually you manage, barely, however. The pain surrounded you as harshly as the cold air. Along with heartbroken and freezing, you were tired and hungry and entirely useless. Time to get back to the van. The thought of never coming back to the guys lingered for a second but ultimately, you forced your optimism upon the plan. 

Staggering back the way you came, you see the van in the distance. Of course, right there waiting for you was the short teenager you thought you knew oh-so-well. His dark eyes were as cold as the snow, lined around with black tiredness. 

He stumbles towards you, quick speed, much care and concerned hesitation. That moment of realisation, his eyes light up. Fire ablaze that could melt this darn cold. Any thought of turning back and leaving forever died down in the precious split second of intense emotion. Who knew that could all fit in such a small time frame because fuck, that was almost beautiful. 

You could feel tears starting to form again but all he does it stare at you, waiting for something, anything. His smallness only made him seem so much more childlike and innocent. Damn this midget. A silent staring stand-off. This could go on for hours, watching each other, refusing to make the first move. Your eyes slightly soften. Angrily waiting for an apology like this and holding your breath until your breathing stops, forever.

This long battle (that was dragging out longer than it seemed) still remained as tense. This was his fault but why wasn't he doing anything to own up. You literally caught him kissing another woman but yet he does not utter that single, simple sorry. 

"Hey! Patrick and Y/N, what's up?" Pete's voice cut the tension so sharply you felt the sting in your chest. You can't tell if he did that on purpose but you it was Pete; What else could you do about him?