Right before going towards the checkout line, Patrick slips into an aisle and comes out with a bottle of Charles de Marquese at hand, "You and Sebastian can have champagne, right?"
"Patrick," Vera chuckles, lifting the basket so Patrick could place the bottle in.
"Don't worry, I'll pay for it," Wilson smiles, sliding his wallet out from his back pocket and pulling out his card.
"You're only paying for the champagne," Vera scolds, lining up at the check-out with a basket full of the necessary ingredients.
"If you say so," Patrick gleams, pulling the bottle of champagne out of the basket into his hands, "you paying cash or credit?"
After making it to the house they began to unpack all of the different ingredients, Patrick worked on the alfredo sauce and noodles as Vera worked on the seasoning and cooking the chicken, "where are your champagne glasses?"
"You're opening it already?" Vera smiles, her eyes never leaving the hot skillet in front of her.
"We don't want it to go bad," Patrick smirks already twisting the cap off.
"They're in the cabinet, left side of the fridge," Vera points, looking to her right to see Sebastian standing there.
"I like your kitchen," Patrick simpers, taking out two glasses from the cabinet and placing them onto the table before rolling up his sleeves, "very spacious."
Patrick looks up from the table with his hands entwined together, also noticing Sebastian standing at the entrance of the kitchen, "Hey Seb."
"Hey," Sebastian responds gently, his throat dry, "I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?"
"Yeah," Patrick says, forcing a kind smile upon his face as he goes to take out another glass, "would you like some champagne, Sebastian?"
Sebastian glares at him before redirecting his drowsy eyes on Vera, "Hey kitten, you think I can have a glass?"
"Yeah," Vera replies with a surprised tone, kitten? She takes a pitiful glance at Sebastian before putting all of her attention back on the stove, "maybe like one or two..."
"Okay," Sebastian says, brushing past Patrick, "on second thought, I'll probably just have a glass later," he smirks, opening the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice.
Patrick quietly exhales, quivering his eyebrows as he pops the cap open, "how about you?"
"Uh, yeah," Vera says, lifting the lid off of the steaming pot of boiling pasta, "you can pour me a glass."
Patrick pours enough champagne to fill up at least half of the glasses, he places the bottle down on the counter and looks up to see Sebastian leaving the room.
-
Food was ready and Patrick offered to set the table, but Vera forced him to have a seat since he's already done most of the work, "I'm guessing you like the champagne?"
"Yeah," Vera smiles, watching Patrick pour her a second glass as he was already on his sixth.
"You can pour me one more, Pat," Sebastian says, leaning up against his chair as Vera places a plate of pasta in front of him.
"Yeah," Patrick nods, spilling out another glass for him, "here you go."
Once everyone had a plate of food in front of them she sat down in between the two men and began to dig in. Vera hasn't been eating full meals lately, perhaps a lack of appetite due to the medication? She wasn't sure... but this particular meal hit different compared to anything else she's ever cooked, it felt like an accomplishment, and for the first time, it was fun, she enjoyed trying something new with someone who cooked so uniquely.
"Wow," Vera nods, taking in another forkful, "this is great."
"You like it?" Patrick laughs, glad to see Vera enjoying the food.
"Yeah..." Vera smirks, covering her mouth as she talks, "where'd you get the recipe."
Patrick looked down and chuckled silently, twisting his fork around in the pasta, "my mom."
"Wow..." Vera giggles, "this is better than my granddad's recipe."
"Yeah," Wilson smiles, taking another bite before wiping his mouth with a napkin, "it's honestly... better than anything I've ever cooked too."
"Aw don't say that..." Vera says gingerly, "I thought your barbeque was good."
"When'd you go over for barbeque?" Sebastian scolds, stuffing his mouth with the food.
"We both went," Vera states.
Sebastian furiously glanced between the two before looking back down at his plate, tapping his fork anxiously, "I don't remember that..."
"You want anything else, Patrick?"
"No, I'm okay," Patrick smiles, reassuring her before turning to face Sebastian, "No hard feelings, about the alcohol poisoning."
"What's it to you?" Sebastian mumbles, obnoxiously scraping the end of his fork against the plate.
"I've had it before, just gotta watch what your drinking and how much of it your drinking next time around," Patrick says, lowering his voice.
"Oh stop it..." Sebastian scoffs.
"Is there a problem?" Patrick asks, "do you think it's ok to consume that much alcohol in the first place?"
"No of course not."
"Well good for you, it's great to hear that you've got some sense of humanity."
"Says the one that's clearly trying to get to my wife's head."
"Guys..." Vera says calmly, "Just stop it."
"I'm not stopping," Patrick snaps, "I've been nothing but caring and kind to you and your wife, you could've died."
"Yeah," Sebastian growls, "telling my wife she's seeing things? Yeah, that sounds about right!"
"It's not like you treat her properly anyhow!"
"Patrick.." Vera mumbles, getting a hold of his tense arm.
"How would you know?" Sebastian shouts.
"I've seen with my own eyes how you are with her," Patrick snarls, his breath giving out that he's had too much to drink, "don't you start with me."
"Patrick," Vera mutters, getting up from her seat, "hey... how about I take you home?"
"No, it's fine," Patrick says, managing to take a soft tone with her as she tugs him out of his seat, "I can manage."
"You're coming with me," she says, taking his belongings with her before leaving the kitchen.
"You sure you can drive?" Patrick asks, instantly putting a hand to his mouth and laughing, "shit, I forgot we're neighbors."
"Your one heck of a clown when you're drunk aren't you?" Vera laughs, throwing on a pair of shoes.
"I'm not a clown," Patrick scoffs, following her outside, "Hey."
"Be quiet and hand me your keys," Vera jokes, holding out her hand to him.
"Don't rob me."
"I won't," Vera chuckles, unlocking his front door and leading him in. As they step into the cozy house, Patrick tugs her after him into his room.
"You need help with anything?" Vera says, trying her best to hold in a laugh.
"Yeah," Patrick says, struggling to pull off his shirt, "Kind of."
"What do you usually wear to bed?" Vera asks, looking over at the king-sized bed that sat in the center of the bedroom, up against the wall. She also couldn't help but take a quick look at the blueprint he had sitting on his desk, the scattered pens and pencils complimenting all of the other papers and documents he had sitting around.
"Shirt," Patrick sighs, still having trouble with his shirt.
"Need help?" Vera smirks, pulling the shirt up and off of him, exposing more of his perfectly masculine body.
"I'm stuffed." Patrick mumbles, running his hand over his flat stomach as he smoothly unbuckles his belt, swiftly slipping it off, "I need help with my pants, I can't reach see?"
"Seriously?" Vera smirks, admiring the shirtless man in front of her while it lasted.
"Yes," Patrick says, plopping down on his bed and unbuttoning his jeans, failing to pull it down to his knees, "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
"You won't need to," Vera says softly, fixing her eyes on his face as she hands him his belt and jeans.
She goes to toss the clothes into the laundry basket and comes back to find him already snug under the covers. She walks over to him and takes a seat, witnessing his eyes heavily closing. Vera couldn't help but blush at the half-naked man, who was just innocently smiling at her, reaching for her hand gently.
"I gotta go," she softly whispers before getting up.
"You're not staying?" Patrick asks gently dropping his hand, his eyes instantly lighting up.
Vera sighs and plants his keys on the bedside table, making her way towards the door, "Sadly not."