You're a Hot Mess (Peterick)

Chapter Sixteen - The End of the Wars

*Sorry for the incredible lateness, I had a really important project that I've been working on for school recently so I didn't have time to write. Only a few more chapters left after this - Enjoy!*

Patrick's face turns from happiness to concern when he opens his door.

I look at my reflection in the window across from his apartment door and cringe.

After Mikey left I didn't really know what to do. I paced around my apartment a few times, but nothing felt right.

That's how things work. Nothing feels right when everything's perfect.

It's the universe's way of having fun.

My eyes, my cheeks, my expression, everything boils down to the conclusion that I've been a sobbing mess for most of the morning now.

And Patrick, well, he doesn't say anything, he just wraps his arms around me.

He smells exotic, and sweet, like home. I breathe in his scent as he holds me. I feel childlike, but up until now that's how I've been acting.

I'm not sure what's changed.

I know it's because of Patrick, though.

Maybe we're growing together, like a real couple.

All the cliches, huh?

I'd like that.

"I love you." Is the first thing that he says. Only he doesn't expect me to say it back. Not right now.

"You did the right thing." He assures me, pressing his lips to my neck. It doesn't surprise me that he figured it all out. Hell, he could probably tell from last night.

He's attentive, I'll give him that.

"Mikey deserves to be happy." He says, but he soon likely wishes he didn't because as soon as he says it I start shaking and crying all over again because of the main factor that I didn't make him happy.

I crushed him in the end.

I broke his freshly made heart.

He'll look back at our relationship in a decade and he'll remember me as his first heartbreak.

As long as he doesn't forget about me.

That's one thing I've learned. It hurts more to be forgotten. It's better to go out with a bang.

Mikey got to feel both.

Both because of me.

We killed the children in us this morning. We realised that nothing is pure and simple like the storybooks made us think.

"He deserves to be happy." He repeats himself, running his finger in a small circle on my back. I think he's trying to take my mind off of it.

That's right, we're not good with the sentiments. Not as good as we used to be, anyway.

"But so do you."