things start getting somewhere...
We started out watching Rugrats. I hadn't seen that since I was 8! And there I was, watching it with a 27 year old Pete Wentz.
We then went through an assortment of them. Loony Toons. Spongebob. Kim Possible. Tom and Jerry. Doug. Recess. The fucking Proud Family. I swear, I've never been so bored in my life.
But Pete was really into it. He laughed loudly whenever something in the slightest bit funny would happy. Then I would laugh because he looked like such a dork.
So, after 6 hours of that, Pete finally turns off the TV with a huge smile on his face.
"I haven't watched that many cartoons in a long time." He said.
I rolled my eyes.
"What?" He asked, seeing my expression.
"I swear, if I hadn't of killed myself already then I would be so tempted right now..." I replied with a laugh.
In response he picked up a pillow and tried to hit me with it. Keyword: tried. It went right through, and I guess he'd put a little too much into it, because when it went through he lost his balance and fell right on his ass.
I fell backwards on the bed, holding my stomach because I was laughing so hard.
"Bitch." Pete grumbled, getting up and looking slightly embarrassed. Hmm... interesting.
"Dork." I teased, still laughing.
He flipped me off, and I used his comeback just to rub it in.
"Hey, I would, but you'd go right through me babe" I joked, winking at him. Pete shook his head and smiled.
When I stopped laughing I sat up. I still had a bright smile on my face.
Pete looked at me and laughed. "Who's the dork now?"
"What do ya mean?" I asked, still smiling. Then I noticed I was still smiling. Damn.
"You're the one sitting there with that goofy grin on your face." Pete teased.
"Hey, that's a good thing. I haven't smiled this much since... well, ever." I replied. That, of course, made my smile drop. Damn. Why did I always have bring up my past in the worst situations?
Pete sat down beside me. "You know, I'd give you a hug, but I'm not sure if it'd work or not." He joked, trying to lighten the mood.
I sighed. "You can try, if you want." So I was setting myself up for disappointment, but who cares?
Pete hesitantly lifted his arms, and tried to wrap one around me. And it fucking went right through.
I shivered. "Well, that sucks." I said, breaking the awkward silence that had followed. (And a gay baby was born... haha Evie)
"Yeah..." Pete mumbled, sounding a little down about it himself.
I looked at his face, trying to read his expression. It looked like he was sad. Like he actually cared and was down about not being able to give me a hug.
And I've known this guy personally for not even a whole day yet. And he was a famous rock star. Caring about me?
The thought made me smile. Pete noticed, and cocked up an eyebrow.
"What?" He asked in confusion.
"Why do you care?" I voiced my thoughts.
He looked slightly taken back. "Well, I..." He trailed off, thinking on an answer. He then shrugged. "I don't know."
I nodded. Because I had no fucking idea either.
"It's like... I dunno. I feel like I've known you for years." He said. "But I've known you for a few hours."
I nodded again. I could relate to that. But I didn't understand it. There was some connection between us, something that made us understand each other. Maybe it was part of this wish? I don't know.
"It's just..." He started again, but this time he shrugged and didn't finish.
I looked at the floor, then up at his face, searching for answers. What exactly did he feel for me?
My question was halfway answered for me.
He reached his hand up, and nervously put it up to my cheek, afraid that it might go through.
When he made contact he smiled, and stroked my cheek before looking me in the eyes.
And I swear my heart was about to burst out of my chest, it was beating so hard.
He leaned in, our lips were barely a centimeter apart....
"Pete!" Came a yell from outside the door, followed by some rather loud knocking.
Pete and I both almost jumped out of our skin.
We smiled, and Pete glanced at me before running over to the door and letting a rather exhausted looking Patrick inside the room.
"What?" Pete asked, sounding rather annoyed.
Patrick shut the door and bolted it before answering. "They're after me." He said in a squeaky voice.
"Who?" Pete asked, probably as confused as I was.
"Joe and Andy." Patrick said with a gulp.
Pete instantly started laughing, but I was still confused. What were they doing to him?
"You can hide out in here, I won't let them get you." Pete said after he stopped laughing.
Patrick looked relieved. "Thank God." He mumbled.
Pete looked at me, his face still smiling, and then saw my confusion.
"Joe and Andy, and well, I do too, sometimes, have this game of..." Pete trailed off, his face turning a little red.
"Molesting me, that's what it is." Patrick finished, obviously getting the general idea that Pete was talking to me.
I smiled. Poor Patrick. "You know, I can offer some major protection to Patrick." I said to Pete.
"How's that?" Pete asked.
"Well, remember when you made me mad?" I replied sweetly
Pete thought for a second, then his eyes widened when he remembered.
"Yes. I do." He replied simply. "And I don't think it would be wise to make another man ever feel that again."
I laughed, amused at Pete's pained expression.
I then heard Patrick sigh loudly. "I wish I could hear what she was saying."
Pete shook his head. "No you don't."
I started to flip him off, but I didn't really feel like getting a perverted comment. So I just stuck my tongue out at him.
Pete smiled at me, but not his usual smile. This one was different, adoring maybe... It certainly was lingering. He stared at me with that beautiful smile until Patrick interrupted both of our thoughts.
"So... is she hott?" Patrick asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Pete looked at me, slightly squinting his eyes. I looked at the floor, knowing he was going to say fuck no.
"Yeah. She is." Pete replied, causing me to look up in surprise.
I then rolled my eyes and shook my head. But I was still surprised. No one had ever said that about me before.
I then looked at Pete again, and he was staring at me with that smile on his face. I blushed and looked at the floor.
How did he make me feel this way? Like I was the only thing that mattered, the most special, and the only thing he cared about?
I don't know. But I sure as hell liked the feeling.