And I Love The Way You Hurt Me

TWO

Today was the day that Pete was going to leave Patrick for good. He'd decided it this morning when they were fighting.

That's all they did was fight. People who loved each other didn't fight as much as they did. The blame wasn't solely on Patrick's shoulders either. Pete started at least half their fights as well.

It's just Patrick always knows exactly what to say and what to do to piss him off like no one else could. Their therapist said sometimes they hurt each other on purpose. Something about Battered Partner Syndrome. They need to feel the hurt to feel the love. Well, Pete was done with it.

One of his bags was already packed and sitting on the couch. He just needed to finish the one he was packing now. Then he'd run over to Brendon's house and his friend would take him to the bus station. He was going home to his parents.

He was going to miss Patrick. He'd been the love of his life for years. Through the good and the bad. Just the thought of leaving him felt like someone stabbed a steel knife in his windpipe. He couldn't breathe. Maybe he should just stay and fight while he could fight. As long as their wrongs felt right to them, that's all that mattered.

No. Brendon told him he was going to have second thoughts. He needed to stick with the plan this time. He was just high off their broken relationship. Under the influence of Patrick's tattered excuse for love. He knew just how to push Pete to the brink and then yank him back. Like their relationship was a pool he was constantly sinking down in. And just before he drowned, Patrick would resuscitate him. He fucking hated him and he loved it.

It was so crazy because when things were going good, they were going great. They were both floating on cloud nine. Talking about forever and planning their wedding and future together. They even once talked about adopting a kid. But Patrick decided Pete was too irresponsible for that so they settled on adopting a dog soon.

But when things we're going bad, they were awful. Screaming insults at each other that neither one of them would ever be able to forget. Throwing thing and breaking glasses. Destroying each other's favorite things. Wrecking each other emotionally and mentally. That was why Pete needed to get out now. If they were together any longer, they'd permanently break each other.

He stuffed the last of his t-shirts in his bag. Stealing the picture of him and Patrick from the nightstand and throwing that into his bag too. He zipped it up and pulled it on his shoulder. Taking out his phone to dial Brendon's number and tell him he was on the way.

"Pete?"

He froze at the sound of Patrick's quiet voice. He looked up from the phone in his hand. His boyfriend stared over at him with wide eyes. Wearing his usual messy T-shirt, jeans and baseball hat.

"Hey, Patrick."

He tried to sound casual. Crossing his fingers and hoping the man hadn't seen the other bag sitting on the couch out front. He attempted to brush past him and out of the bedroom. But Patrick grabbed him by the arm.

"Wait, where are you going?"

Pete looked down into his baby blue eyes. His usual warm eyes were frozen. Hard. Mad. Scary. Exactly what Pete wanted to get away from. His hand tightened on the phone in his hand.

"I'm leaving you."

There. That was the best way to approach the situation. No beating around the bush. One side of Patrick's lips quirked up in a condescending mess of a smirk. He yanked Pete back into the room fully. Tossing him near the bed.

"No you ain't."

"Yes, I am!" Pete held his balance. Refusing to fall onto the bed or stumble onto the floor from the push. "I don't want to be with you anymore."

"That's tough shit then. Because you're not going anywhere."

"You can't make me stay. All you do is hurt me and I'm tired of it."

"You hurt me too! My lip is still sore from yesterday."

"That's why I need to leave. We can't keep hurting each other."

"So you were going to sneak off while I was at work?" Patrick stormed towards him. "Wait until I'm gone and flee? I must not mean shit to you!"

"Because I knew you would do something like this!"

"Pete?" The detached voice put a hold on their argument. They both looked around the room before realizing the sound had come from the phone in Pete's hand. Brendon. "Pete are you okay? Do you need me to call the police? Can you hear me?"

"Who the hell is that dude?" Patrick snatched the phone from him. Placing it to his own ear. "Who the hell are you?"

"Brendon, don't say anything!" Pete yelled to him.

"Brendon?" Patrick repeated the name. Tasting it bitterly on his tongue. "I don't know that name. Who the hell is Brendon?" He threw the phone at the wall. "Who is he?" His hands clasped the base of Pete's neck.

"M-My friend!" He scratched at Patrick's hands.

"Are you cheating on me? Are you leaving me for him?" His hands tightened around his neck.

"No." Pete was barely able to say the word. "L-Let me g-go!"

So Patrick did. He released Pete's neck. Only to draw back and slam his fist against the dark haired man's face. He wasn't sure if the cracking noise that followed came from his hand or his nose. He did know that he'd never hit his boyfriend so hard before. Pete's head snapped back and he collapsed on top of the unmade bed.