And it's not any of that. It's that little kid I see when you come and cry on my shoulder. [Peterick.]
Not because of his turning to me in those times, but because I don't want to watch him break down. He'd never know how much it hurts me, and I'm okay with that, because it's better for him not to worry. He has too much to handle already.
My arms are still open, I let him fall into them like his life depends on it, like he needs it more than breathing. He wraps his arms around my neck and cries into my shoulder. He whispers, "I'm so stupid." over and over and I just shake my head and tell him, "No you're not. She was, Pete, not you." and his grip tightens around my neck.
"Trick, don't ever leave me," he nuzzles into my neck, giving me goosebumps, "please don't leave me."
I pull him closer and rest my head on his. "I won't Pete. You know I won't." Pete sniffles, "Thank you. You're the best friend I could ever fucking have. I love you." and I know he doesn't mean it, but I reply to it anyways, "I love you too."
I remember one day, before all of this. Pete throws himself onto the couch next to me with an album in his lap, "Remember these trickster? We took these back when we first met." I laugh, "Yeah, back when I had more hair and less body fat." The back of Pete's arm meets my chest, almost knocking the wind out of me, "Don't say that. You're gorgeous."
"It's true though."
Pete pulls out a picture of me and him, sitting by the pool. I remember that pool only because I stuck my face in the hot tub right next to it, he was filming it too. Me and him were sitting in lawn chairs next to each other, laughing, with our new sunglasses hanging off our noses. We were laughing because of the stupid little song Pete sang(horribly if I might add) about them.
Pete smiled for the first time in a few days, his dark chocolate eyes meeting mine, "Those were the days. Right Trick?" I smiled back, "Yeah they were."
Pete put the picture back into the album and stood up, "Stupid." he teased, kicking my feet as he walked past me.
Most of the time, we were alone. Andy was usually with Ryanne back home and Joe was usually with Cindy in ChiTown. It's not really their faults that they had girlfriends you know.
Pete walked into the bathroom, "Hey Trick, Wanna go out tonight? I'm tired of this shit hole." for a small man, he sure could yell. I laughed, "Sure why not."
I should have told him to stay watch The Outsiders with me instead, maybe none of this would have happened.
Now here he is, a mess of a man, trying to find safety between my arms and the folded wrinkled of his hoodie. He's holding onto me and making me promise him that I'll never let go, and for a second, I think he ment it.
I sit there, in the middle of the floor, with Pete in my lap. Him crying into my neck, and I'm whispering reassurances into his ear. I just wish that girls would stop hurting him, he doesn't deserve any of it.
His voice is growing softer, and his breath is slowing down to a calm pace. I can tell he's tired. I look down at the mass of broken man in my arms, and I fucking smile. He looks so damn cute when he's half asleep.
I slowly get up, trying not to wake him, and carry him to his room. Once I manage to get the door open I see Hemingway standing in his attacking pose, then notice it's me with Pete, he wags his tale and lies back down in his doggy castle. I place Pete down gently on his bed, covering him with the clean sheets that Rosie had put out for him.
I kiss him softly on the forehead, "Pete. I do love you. Sleep well." and as I turn, I realise that there's a hand holding mine. "Patrick?" he groans, "Yeah?"
He uses his finger to geture me closer, "You promise you wouldn't leave me." he smiles wearily at me. "Well what do you want me to do Petey? Pull up a sleeping bag and sleep by Hemi?" Pete shakes his head and laughs tiredly, "No. Sleep with me." he demands.
I take off my jacket and my shoes and I abandon my hat, pausing momentarily before climbing into his bed.
Warm arms wrap around my neck again, I can't say I didn't like the feeling, but this time they were greeted with a chaste kiss on the lips.
Later there were kisses on the necks. Touching, caressing, love. But for right now, there was just a kiss. A kiss that had given me hope that maybe he really did love me afterall.
And I didn't let go.