Okay so I just had thanksgiving and I am dying cuz I ate too much food. idk okay?
Patrick's POV
It's that time of the year where everyone eats too much food, then complains about it for a month straight. Yup it's thanksgiving, we have to go to Pete's family's today, and mine tomorrow. Great. That's a lot of food in a short amount of time, and I have no self control.
(The next day cuz I'm lazy)
Oh my gosh. Pete and I have just gotten home from thanksgiving, the only problem with this is I ate way too much and there's a plate of pumpkin squares sitting on the counter for tomorrow. I lay in pain on the living room floor in a turkey induced coma glaring at the pumpkin squares. As if giving them the death stare would actually do something. As I was mentally trying to explode the pumpkin spiced squares of death someone walked into the living room slowly, as if not to scare me? Odd.
"Patrick honey, are you okay? You were making weird noises and I'm worried..." ah Peter, my love, my saviour. Come to see what's wrong with little old me. Well I'm in a pissy mood so I'll tell him what's wrong. I sat up with a little too much force and went off at him,
"You wanna know my problem Peter? Huh? Really? Well guess what? I ate too much fucking food at thanksgiving with your family and now I'm more bloated than a whale. I think i drank a bit too much, so now I'm craving food even though I'm so full I will literally rip in half. And there's a fucking plate of pumpkin squares for my family dinner that I want to eat so badly. But I'm not allowed to eat them until tomorrow, and they look so good I want to cry! I hate this! I feel fat, and I'm sleepy and full pie! And god damnit I feel like I'm on my period or something!?! I need a hug..." I trailed off quietly hoping Pete would help me. Soon I was being scooped up into strong arms and thrown into the couch. Pete then later a blanket in me and gave me a glass of water. I snuggled into his arm once he sat down and I started getting tired.
When I woke up I noticed Pete was still sleeping, I creeped into the kitchen and stole a few squares. Cramming the delectable food into my mouth as forcefully as possible holing Pete wouldn't notice the five squares missing. Everything was fine until...
"PATRICK MARTIN STUMP YOU LITTKE SHIT!"
Oops?
Pete stormed at me with anger in his tired eyes. I ate most of the squares and there wasn't enough time to make more. Everyone begged me and Pete to make them for the dinner, you can see why. They are like cocaine man! Just thinking about them I could taste the-
"PATRICK ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!?" Right I'm getting yelled at.
"pete. Pete. PETER WENTZ" I screamed to try and get him to focus. I realized I didn't have an argument. Whelp I'm fucked. I caressed his cheek in my hand and whispered,
"I'm sorry baby," then I kissed his lips softly and ran the hell out of there. He's gonna be so mad, but at least I got to eat the pumpkin squares and he didn't.
***
IDk what that was. But I'm tired and i ate too much food this weekend.
~Morgan
