Paper Hearts [Brallon-ish]

151 days

[id like to apologize in advance because this chapter is actually really really terribly written]

A week and 2 days before Halloween, Brendon was ready for the holidays. "It's just for the free candy" he insisted, taping black and orange streamers across the ceiling with special tape decorated with jack o lanterns. "It's a tradition" he yelled from across the store while shoving sweets marked half off into his cart.

"It's the one holiday besides thanksgiving and Saint Patrick's day that gets him excited." Pete told me and passed a drink from the local coffee shop into my hands. It was warm and I instinctively thought Brendon would probably like one to wake him up, but watching him knock countless decorations into his arms proved otherwise.

"Do we have a staple gun?" He asked and held up a paper chain of dancing skeletons doing the conga

"Probably." Patrick sighed. His head was covered by the hood of his jacket and he was slumped over the table we'd taken refuge at so that his disappointed expression was hidden from view. He didn't want to discourage Brendon on his favorite holiday.

"Great," he grinned "I'll take 20."

..:..::..:::..::..:..

I failed to understand what was so hilarious about golf tournament reruns. But for some reason Pete still found them amusing, so Patrick and I watched the wall while Brendon hung up his decorations with Petes hyena laugh as background noise. Ryan sat at the kitchen table, typing furiously on his laptop for a project in his human anatomy class due online in less than an hour.

"Nightmare before Christmas is the best movie, even though I can't tell if it's a Halloween or Christmas movie, but that doesn't matter because it's a good movie and the music is awesome and the characters are awesome." Brendon rambled like he'd been doing for the past hour, and waved around the staple gun in one hand and held up the paper skeletons with the left. "Dallon you should be Jack and I'll be like Sally or something without the weird looking hair because I feel like that's too far-"

He pulled the trigger on the staple gun without checking where he was aiming, and about 6 shots fired before he toppled off the ladder and on to the floor, clutching his left wrist and crying out when the metal crashed on top of his forearm.

"Whoa." He said, dazed, and shook his head quickly like a dog trying to dry off after a bath. Ryan was almost immediately by his side, pushing the ladder off his arm and inspecting the back of his hand, which had been struck with 4 staples in a direct line and 2 up closer to his knuckles.

"Dude, I'm no doctor yet but I think you broke your wrist." Ryan huffed, glancing backwards to us over the couch.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Pete raised his voice and pressed his face to the couch in exasperation.

"I don't know." Brendon pouted, bit the inside of his cheek, and stood up carefully with Ryan's help.

"Is it hospital worthy?" Patrick asked, worry lining his tone.

Ryan sighed and hung Brendon's already purple wrist over the couch and next to Patrick's face. He squirmed away and nearly fell off the furniture.

"Dude, that looks awesome." Pete grinned and reached out to touch it, but got his hand slapped away.

"You're absolutely disgusting. I'm taking him to the hospital."

I wasn't exactly sure how I ended up driving with nobody in the passenger seat but with Ryan and Brendon in the back. He'd insisted that Pete and Patrick both stay home and finish decorating with the supplies he'd bought.