Rain

•13•

Pete slams his hand on his alarm and rolls over. He went to bed at 2am, mainly tossing and turning.

"Pete, get up!" His mother says, somewhat annoyed. She came in about 7 times.

"I'm not going." He mumbles.

"Sweetheart, you have to."

"No."

"Yes."

"I have to stay for detention tomorrow let me have a day off." He swats her away.

She sighs. "Will you miss a lot?"

"Just videos. My exams are over."

She sighs again before leaving. He falls back asleep within minutes. Perhaps he lied...he's got a lab in Science...They shouldn't miss him...

Shouldn't...

~~~

"Patrick, how are you doing baby?"

"Fine." He smiles. "My chest is sore..." He winces as he sits up.

"Here, you get dressed, I'll make your bed and finish making breakfast. How do you want your eggs? Scrambled?"

Patrick nods and heads to his closet. He grabs a button down. The exact color of his eyes with some black jeans...obviously. A black fedora and his glasses complete his little look. He's happy. The button down is light so it's not super thick on his chest. He feels airy, unlike yesterday where he couldn't get a breath in. Like his mom said, his bed was made once he came back in his room. He sprayed a specially made cologne on himself, one that was made in France.

One that didn't have water in it.

He walked to his window and pulled up the shade, right away he saw Pete. Pete was tugging a dark blue shirt on. Like the picture on his Instagram, Pete did have muscle...perhaps more of it on his abdomen. Patrick feels sinful suddenly but he can't pull his eyes away.

"Patrick!"

Damn her deliciously cock-blocking breakfast.

"Coming!" He steals one last look before he leaves.

Breakfast is in his usual spot in the table. ScrambledO eggs steaming next to 2 slices of toast. His stomach rumbles slightly.

"Ooh I love that shirt on you honey!" His mother smiles.

"Looking sharp, kid!" His dad, dressed in his usual suit for work, raises his coffee cup.

"Thanks." Redness floods his cheeks.

He pulls his chair out, sitting down quickly. He picks up his fork and starts to eat. The eggs burn his tongue quickly and he chews them as quick as he can, open mouth.

His dad starts to laugh. "You good?"

"It's hot." Patrick pulls the straw from his water glass to his mouth.

"Well it just came out of the pan." His mom rubs his back.

Patrick grabs his toast and takes a bite, hoping his eggs will cool down by the time he finishes. After about 5 minutes, he stabs another fluffy egg and puts it in his mouth. Still hot but not burning.

"These are good!" Patrick skewers another.

"Thank you." His mother pulls the chair out across from him and sits with a small plate of eggs.

"Why don't you eat a lot?"

"I do...usually I'm not hungry in the morning. You should see me at work...I eat so much in the break room!"