Pete and Patrick clean the bathroom, Devin calls Patrick at midnight
Pete set down his wallet on the counter and immediately disappeared under the sink.
"What are you doing?" Patrick asked.
"Getting some cleaning stuff."
"We don't have to do this now..."
"Yes, we do," Pete argued, emerging, clutching some floor cleaning solution, "You got a mop?"
Patrick sighed but fetched one from the closet none the less.
They stood in the bathroom doorway, staring at the dried pools of blood. Patrick's razor was on the counter, and the blade lay on the ground, forgotten. Pete sighed and stepped forward, and began mopping the floor.
"You get the counter." He said over his shoulder.
Patrick scrubbed the counter with a rag until it shone clean. He threw out the razor, and Pete through out the blade.
"There," Pete announced, "We're done."
The evening passed without much excitement. They made a quick dinner and watched MTV until Pete fell asleep on the couch, the remote slipping out of his hand. Patrick covered him with a blanket and padded down the hall, into his room. The alarm clock on his bedstead read 10:00 p.m. Patrick was exhausted, but he told himself he wasn't tired. He picked up his guitar and strummed absently.
"Tonight, the headphones will deliver you the words that I can't say..." he sang softly. His fingers grew tired and his eyelids drooped, but he didn't want to sleep.
"Tonight is all about 'we miss you'" he sang. Tears stung his eyes. He couldn't play this song now, it made him think of Devin. He thought for a minute and began to play again.
"I've seen your boyfriend, and I don't think he treats you right." He huffed in frustration and set his guitar down.
"Why does every song remind me of her?" he demanded to the darkness.
He had only been with Devin a couple of nights, but he had already grown used to her slim body cuddled against his. Fighting back tears, he hugged his pillow tight against him, but it wasn't the same. Suddenly, the phone on his bedstead rang, scaring him out of his skin. He picked it up.
"Patrick!" Devin's voice sounded hysterical.
"Dev, Love, what's wrong?"
"Patrick, I can't sleep. I miss you, I need you!"
"I'll be right there, Love."
He hung up the phone and sprang out of bed, pulling on jeans and a tee shirt. As he dressed, he realized that 'Love' was fast becoming his pet name for Devin. He rushed out into the living room and shook Pete's shoulder gently.
"'S goin' on?" he mumbled sleepily.
"I'm going to see Devin, Ok?"
Pete raised his tousled head and squinted at the clock on the wall.
"Dude, its midnight."
"She called. She needs me."
Pete nodded and fell back asleep.
Patrick stepped into Devin's darkened room. She was silently sobbing.
"I'm here, Love." He said soothingly, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
"It was murder to call you, I had to move my wrists." She whispered.
Patrick stroked her cheek, smiling faintly.
"I'm sorry I told you to leave earlier." She mumbled.
Patrick lay down next to her, gently intertwining his fingers with hers.
"It's ok. Pete told me what happened...it wasn't my fault." He whispered.
"I'm so sorry." Devin sobbed.
"You made a mistake. But you'll be alright. Thank your lucky stars you're alive, Love."
She smiled through her tears.
"'Love'...like in 'Dance, Dance'."
He laughed and nodded.
"My vocabulary is somewhat limited to words from my songs."
They both laughed quietly and then lay there for a very long time.
"You know, I'm laying here with all these stitches...19 in my side, and nearly 70 in my wrists. All because of Kevon. And what did he get?"
"He gets jail time," He answered firmly, "You should press charges."
Devin thought of her conversation with Andy and smiled.
"Yeah, I'll do that."
They lay still for a long time, cuddling.
"Mmm?" she asked sleepily.
"I love you."
"I love you too, Patrick."
They were quiet for a moment.
"Sing to me, Patrick."
"Ok...'Am I more than you bargained for yet? I've been dying to tell you anything you wanna hear..." he finished the song and the two kissed, falling asleep in eachothers arms.