(A/N): So, i have news... this fic has over 1,367 reads on Quotev, which is where I originally posted it! I know that's not alot, but it means somethig to me, so here's another quick filler... in Pete's perspective! Finally! I've missed writing in his P.O.V, like i have been doing for the entire duration of this fic, so, worhout any further ado...
I was horrified. I was brutal. I'd never been so upset with myself. How... How did i let this happen? Why did i honestly think that Patrick, sweet gentle Patrick, would cheat on me? And, why, in the name of Jesus fucking Christ himself, would Ryan do this? Most of all, to Patrick? As soon as my redeemed boyfriend left, i decided i was well enough to leave the hospital.
I had to shove on an extra hospital gown on, and i had to shove it on backwards... you know, to cover my modesty.
I walked right out past reception, too.
It took a couple of seconds for a nurse to realize that i absolutely 100% intended on leavig the hospital, not going to a toilet unassisted or anything.
"Excuse me! Excuse me, sir, I can absolutely not allow you to leave the building! Your blood pressure is still rather low, Mr. Wentz, and your arm is still rather badly bruised!" A blonde nurse exclaimed.
I felt bad for her; she has to put up with this absolute horseshit of a hospital all the damn time. That would kill me, most literally. I'd drop dead of a heartattack under all the stress.
"I'm sorry, M'aam. I just want to be alone at the moment, and i get the feeling that that might not be possible in a hospital facility. I honestly just want to take a walk, get some air, you know? You understand that feeling, Doc? I'll be back by 11:00PM, promise. Like i say, i just wanna be alone. This is all on me, i'll talk to your management when i get back if they give you any shit for this. See ya, Doc."
"Mr. Wentz, i cannot allow-" The nurse paused for a second, taking in the fact that i was chill, that i promised to come back. She sighs. "Nevermind. Go. This isn't on me." She says, shaking her head. She was smiling, though. She has a pretty smile. I wonder how much stress and chaos and shit she's been through today. Probably more than me. She looks about thirty; that's years more experience than me. She must have to deal with this everyday...
I smile broadly. It was put on, but at the same time it was genuine. "Thank you." I say, curtly nodding at the blonde woman before walking past reception, and out the front door.