Breathe Me Back To Life •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Thirty Four: You Say I Would Make A Better Liar

The paragraph separations might not be there because the app is fricking uo and it's annoying af. Anyways, dedication goes out to the lovely Katelerz for being a great person and commenting and all that jazz!

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

---

I couldn't take it. On my Greyhound ticket, it explicitly said that the train or bus would depart at three and arrive in Whistler at five thirty. I spent one hour and thirty minutes against my will next to him, and I was not about to spend another hour with Derek Skinner. I kept staring ahead, ignoring Derek as he kept touching me. He couldn't see right now, but my hands were tightening around my Adidas bag straps. My heart was pounding like a drum in my chest, and I was terrified that Derek could smell my fear. His finger sticks out as he traces my jaw line lightly. It feels like a path of fire is being left behind as I tilt my head up slightly. I gulp nervously as his pointer finger traces the curve of my red lips.

"When was the last time I kissed those lips?" Derek whispers, and then he laughs like he told a funny joke. He was the only one who found it funny, especially when he turns my head to face him sharply and tries to smash his mouth onto mine. Last second, I dip my head and let his nose crash into my forehead. He leans back in pain, banging his head into the window. He gasps in pain, and I take that moment to run. I dive out of my seat, hitting the floor on my stinging wrist. I try to get up, but Derek makes a coughing noise, and almost immediately, a young guy sitting diagonal up from us stands up. I look up and behind me, but all I can take note of is shaggy brown hair, a beanie, and a shit ton of tattoos spread out across his tan skin before he puts his Aldo laced foot on my Vans bearing ankle, about to stomp on it. This was obviously Derek's friend, considering Derek couldn't break his cover on a train with my family. Almost instantly, I hear Pete.

"What the hell?" He begins, his face red with rage as he gets up from the very back of the train. It would take him forever to get to me, and everyone knew that. Patrick turns around from the front, immediately getting up and doing his best to come over to me. He almost trips a couple of times, falling back into his seat. Derek leans his head against the window, closing his eyes and throwing his hood up. He feigns a sleeping passenger as I try to drag myself forward, but the guy yanks me up by the hood of Andy's sweater. The collar nearly chokes me as he pulls me to my feet, and my wrist is bleeding, the blood from my cut still dripping down my wrist slowly. Andy's sweater sleeves stay high up my wrist though. The guy smashes his fist into my face, making my head snap backwards. His knuckles dig into my cheek bones, and I would've fell to the ground right there if it weren't for his hand gripping my neck. I almost trip over my feet before I'm using the leverage he gives me to jump up and kick him in the stomach. I don't know how I did it, but I just see my right leg planting itself in his stomach. He lets go of me, doubling over in pain before I'm falling on my butt and nearly hitting my head against the metal ground. I push myself up to my wobbly feet and try to use my self defense skills and punch him in the face when he stands up straight. He grabs my arm. twists. and throws me into the empty seats across from Derek- Seat Five, B1-, and my head crashes into the window. I can hear people on the bus yelling and shouting distantly. The guy comes closer, but I extend my leg and kick him in the groin. I draw my skinny jean covered leg back and jut my Vans into his lowlands again.

"You," Patrick is there in an instant, his hands bunching up the guys collar. He slams the guy into the sliver of exposed wall between Seat Six and Five that appears in Five seat intervals. Patrick is short, but the guy practically cowers under Patrick's gaze. "Who the hell do you think you are?" I watch from across of me as Derek's eyes flash open, him turning around and continuing to act the part of a concerned passenger. He hides the smile on his face as he cups his hands over his mouth, looking right at me with this lustful gaze that makes me want to upchuck down his throat.