Intentional/Unintentional? Ady, you bad girl, you.
After over 10 minutes of desperate searching, she sat cross-legged on the now messy bed, surprised and disappointed.
"Where is it?!", she yelled at the empty room.
Reluctantly she decided she'd change first and scold Patrick afterwards. She rolled across the bed, landing on the floor in a delicate cat-crouch. As she got up, she noticed something that wasn't there the last time she was over.
It was a framed photograph of Patrick and her, around 4 years ago. She immediately recalled it being taken by either Andy or Joe in an empty car park somewhere, in the wee hours of the morning. A small smile crept onto her face as she picture it up for a better look. Staring at it intently, she sadly though about how much both of them had changed since the photograph was taken. Patrick had gone from frame to fame, and Ady? What had Ady done with her life? She could have followed Patrick's footsteps, even if it meant just sitting on the sidelines and being an insignificant part of his backbone. She wanted to be with them, the boys she helped raise. Instead, she worked day in and day out at a job she couldn't enjoy no matter how much it meant to her. 'Painter' --a simple, singular word that somebody had gone and put on at the end of the longest fucking sentence in the world. She had reached a dead end. Flicking paintbrushes against canvas didn't buy her clothes or put food in the mouth.
She thumbed Patrick's face affectionately and giving it one last look, she placed the photograph back on the bedside table. She had slid back down on the floor while she was looking at the picture, so she quickly got up, brushed her bottom and walked over to her bag, which lay by itself on the floor.
"Aww," she cooed. "Did you miss me?"
Laughing all to herself, she patted the bag before unzipping it and hunting through it for something appropriate to wear. She finally decided on her white Adeline shirt, her black, skinny jeans and a Green Day hoodie. She grabbed the clothes, a clean set of underwear and opened the bathroom door. Placing the clothes in the washbasin, she closed the door behind her and peeled off her Nirvana shirt. She was about to pull down her plaid skirt when there was a knock on her bedroom door.
"Yeah?", she called out as loudly as she could.
There was a muffled response she didn't understand, so she unlocked the bathroom door to go have a look. Once out, she immediately recognized Patrick's voice and was halfway through opening the door when she realized that she didn't have a shirt on. Decision time. Should she quickly throw on a shirt of stay the way she is. Smiling to herself, she decided to stay the way she was and opened the door.
"Hey the guys said... uhm, the guys said that uh, they'd be over by 7-uh-7 o'clock", Patrick barely managed to stutter. And Ady had a feeling she knew why. She watched him less-than-obviously try to keep his eyes on her face and wondered what he was thinking as he stood there in front of her shirtless body, in a lacy black bra that clung effortlessly onto her chest. It was like ripping open a packet of Skittles and not being allowed to taste even one. Smirking inwardly at her genius, she casually ok-ed him and shut the door, leaving him standing there, his heart in his throat and hers pounding against her chest.
'Well, that was new', Patrick though, turning on his heel and heading back to the kitchen, still wondering what had happened to him back there. He never got tongue-tied in front on Ady. Even if she was clothed in nothing but a bra and a mini-skirt. She was ADY, after all. He shrugged it off as he walked into the kitchen, deciding to focus his attention on his pancakes instead.