FicWad

In the morning Pete wakes up and watches Masey sleep. Her face is blank and she takes slow, even breaths. He likes to watch her sleep, it's the only time she ever looks completely peaceful.


Pete loves Masey in a "You understand everything about me that no one else can," kind of way. She is his very best friend. But lately he feels like she's been way more sensitive and defensive, which sparks their fights. It makes him angry that she gets upset over every little thing he says.


A fight they had last week started while they were in the car and he told her the light was green. Masey didn't appreciate that and proceeded to list off all the tickets he'd gotten and all the times he'd nearly killed them. Pete said that wasn't the point. The fight ended in a bunch of screaming and profanity and Masey dropped Pete off at his house and fumed the entire way home. Pete was upset and he didn't sleep again because he can't sleep when Masey is mad at him.


His mood has been really off lately except he hasn't told anyone; not even Patrick and Masey. He's just been feeling very sad and dark and anxious. His temper has been something awful, too, causing him to freak out whenever Masey gets defensive or starts picking at his flaws.


They always make up, which is good and nice but Pete's always the one doing the apologizing and Masey doesn't even say sorry for anything she said or did, which doesn't seem very fair to Pete. And here he is again, sad and remorseful and begging for acceptance and Masey didn't even apologize for what she said to him. She's lucky that he's quick to blow things off, he thinks.


This time he's sort of okay without her apologies, though, because he was the one that was being the biggest dick of all time. Never in his life did he think he would hit a woman. Especially not Masey Brier. but to be fair his mood is at rock bottom and he doesn't even know why he is alive. And here he was, fighting with Masey, who was telling him he was worthless and that nothing he did mattered and one can imagine what that did to his mood.


Pete kept trying to tell her that the things he did mattered, that Fall Out Boy mattered; she didn't want to hear it, fuming over his comment on her not having a teaching or journalist job. "It's summertime, asshole," she had said. "Besides, no school's around here are hiring at the moment. And for your information, I have an interview at Rolling Stone's Chicago offices next week. I don't see Fall Out Boy getting anywhere," she had scoffed, proceeding to tear them apart. Pete tried to tell her this is what he wants to do and that it's going somewhere, but she wouldn't listen and he got madder and madder. Before he knew it he hit her.


He'll never forget the look Masey gave him. Her eyes teared up and her mouth hung open in horror. Her expression was mixed between hurt and shock and disgust as she cupped her neck with her left hand. "Fuck you, Pete," she had screamed, running into her bedroom. Thankfully her mother had been in the garden picking vegetables for dinner and she hadn't heard them. Or seen what he'd done. That's when Pete had run after her and begged her to let him in. It didn't take long for him to realize what he'd done to her.


Masey stirs in her sleep and turns in Pete's direction. He moves her hair out of her face and he sees a light purple bruise on her neck. He hates himself even more, running his thumb along the spot. Her eyes open and he snatches his hand away. "What are you doing?" She asks, stretching her arms. Masey looks up at him from where she's laying on the pillows and Pete rests his forehead against her temple. He closes his eyes and breathes deep.


"Nothing, Honeycomb Head. Why don't you go back to sleep. It's only seven thirty. I'll wake you up in a while."


"Not past ten please."


"I know, I know," Pete smiles a little before sitting back, resting his head against the wall. He picks up The Bell Jar from Masey's night stand and begins reading. He likes looking at the little comments she writes in the margins to figure out what she's thinking while she reads.


Pete wakes up Masey at quarter of ten. She smiles up at him sleepily and it makes his heart melt. "Hi," he smiles.


"Morning," Masey yawns, stretching. She sits up and rubs her eyes before getting out of bed. "Breakfast?" She asks, looking at Pete with big, green eyes. He nods before hopping out of bed with her. they make vegetable omelets with onions and peppers fresh from the garden and toast and Pete's reminded that Masey always makes him the best breakfast.

He starts noticing all the little things he loves about her. Her smile, her teeth, the way her lips curl around the words she's speaking, and how her eyes crinkle up and her nose scrunches when she laughs. This morning he's noticing these little nuances of her being that he never had before. Well, maybe he had, but he hadn't paid so much attention to detail as he was now. He was beginning to realize she was actually pretty fucking beautiful.

Pete examined Masey as she set her dishes carefully into the sink after breakfast. She's still in her pajamas, and Pete's eyes are tracing along her skin, lingering on her shoulder blades, exposed in the white tank top she's adorning. Masey leans against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, facing Pete.

"So," she begins, "what are we doing today?" Pete looks to her face, completely flawless without makeup, and smiles.

"I don't know. Whatever the world has in store."

For them, all the world had in store for them was getting coffee and going back to Masey's. They didn't even watch movies or anything, they mostly just sat around and talked, not that they were complaining.

Throughout the day Pete gets this incessant aching in his chest. A mixture between butterflies and anxiety, he couldn't decide which, and he wasn't sure if it was good or bad. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason Masey looked ten thousand times more beautiful than he remembered. Maybe he had just never noticed.

Yes, that must have been it. Because right now Masey was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

..........

At 10 p.m. Pete is laying down in Masey's bed, and she's sitting on the edge looking down at him. "You're beautiful," he tells her in a soft voice.

"What?"

"You. Are. Beautiful." Pete repeats, staring up into her emerald eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Okay," is all Masey says, and her head is filling with questions. "Are you trying to make me not be mad at you?" She asks him.

"No," Pete says.

"Then what the fuck are you on about?"

"Nothing. I just think you're beautiful."

"Yeah, right," Masey sneers.

"Yeah, right." Pete affirms.

"Whatever you say, Wentz," Masey shrugs, sitting on the bed criss-cross. Pete sits up beside her and gets so close to her face that their noses just barely touch.

"You are, okay? I'm your best friend, I wouldn't lie to you. And I also probably wouldn't be friends with you if you were ugly," he chuckles at the last part, knowing the falseness of the statement. Masey blinks at him, because he sure is acting odd. Pete is overcome with some strange emotion he's never experienced before with his best friend, and he has this sudden urge to pull her into him and smash his lips on hers. But he doesn't. They sit there like that for what feels like eternity, the both of them suspended in time, their breath mingling, noses touching, eyes locked. Masey breaks his hold on her eventually.

"I gotta go to bed, Pete," she sighs. Her tone implies she wants to be alone. Pete wants to know what he's done now.

"Am I in trouble?" He asks her, completely serious.

"No," she laughs, "I just have a doctor's appointment in the morning."

Pete feels stupid, "Oh, okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow?" He asks, getting off of the bed.

"Yeah," Masey nods. Pete stoops down to hug her small frame to him, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll see you later, kid," says Pete, as he's ducking out of Masey's room.

"See you," she smiles, mostly to herself, because Pete Fucking Wentz called her beautiful.