Archaic ||Peterick||

Butterflies, Crocodiles and Vampires

"It's a human need!" Pete yelled. He'd gone from mild irritation to the level of rage that Brits feel when someone puts a used teabag in the sink in a matter of seconds.

"You're not even human." Patrick shot back. His general mood was just that.

"But I still have a dick that needs to be used!"

"You could've gone to the bathroom."

"It's not the same standing up!"

Patrick stared at Pete with a dubious look.

"You're- you're serious...?"

"Duh," Pete rolled his eyes like Patrick was being stupid.

"You're- I can't- you- Pete! What the fuck?!"

"It's not the same standing." Pete repeated.

"You're fucking disgusting!"

"I know."

There was a silence between them. Patrick sat down at his desk again. Pete sat on the bed again.

Pete growled,  baring his fangs. They'd been worn down a bit, probably from his neglecting to eat with them. They were almost back to a somewhat human shape. When he opened his eyes, they were a sort of mustard yellow. Somewhere between their natural hazel and the saffron they had been before.

Patrick stopped being angry. He stopped everything. He stepped back just a little.

"Pete. Calm down."

"I am calm!"

"Well obviously, not!"

Pete stamped his foot angrily.

"You dragged me here, and you made me think that I was into you when I totally wasn't, and you're messing around with knives and stuff and expecting me to trust you when you're probably going to kill me! Are we even ever going to get to Chicago? Is that where we're even going? Or am I just going to be your sparkly assistant forever?"

"No."

"Well then let me go! You're depriving me! You never do anything but make me feel bad and stop me doing things, and drag me places I don't want to go, treat me like a dog, or a toddler or both, make me sit in the car for hours and hours and hours and hours, make me love you, scare the crap out of me for fun, keep me up well past the time I should be asleep, say I'm an animal or I'm bad, or I'm rude or I'm doing something you don't like and you never think about how I would feel, and so now I have to tell you! Here it is! I hate it, I hate it so much and you'll never even listen, I just want you to let me the fuck off!"

"Pete, calm down."

He didn't calm down. He launched himself right at Patrick and knocked him onto the ground. Patrick pushed him off, and shook off the feeling of Pete on top of him. He looked over to see where Pete actually was, that place being in a heap by the bed. Upside down. He was bent into a C shape, his legs hanging over his head.

He was looking over at Patrick, with a slightly bemused look on his face. It looked quite comical. He was hungry, though. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, now about three inches longer than it was before. The ends deviated, like a snake's. Patrick stood up, and brushed off the dirt from the carpet.

There was a vampire on the floor. After everything he'd done, Patrick had never seen him as what he actually was, not properly. But now there was a vampire on the floor, and Patrick had to quietly resist the urge to stab it.

There was a knife on the table. Serrated. Patrick picked it up and looked at it. And there was a voice behind him. He looked at the reflection. A small, blonde girl. Blue eyes that were wide and staring into the knife in his hand so intently you'd think she was trying to burn through it. No anger. Just fear.