Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy

Nightmares Suck

by Millonic 1 review

Pete never had many nightmares. In fact, he never really dreamed, for that matter. But when he did dream, it was often very nightmarish, and he always woke up screaming or shaking. But he would alw...

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Romance - Warnings: [!] [V] [?] - Published: 2015-03-28 - 1546 words - Complete

I'M SORRY! Patrick was screaming, throwing mixed insults and accusations at me without relent. It seemed like he was everywhere and nowhere. Bleeding into my memories and intruding my every thought from nothing but an empty space.
Covering my ears and even screaming didn't help. Even as Patrick slammed the door shut behind in a fit of rage, and I screamed at no one, nothing got better. The thoughts burrowed inside my head and never went away.
I fell to my knees in anguish. All the things Patrick didn't say, and all the lies I knew were so clear, a blind man could see them. It felt like being crushed.
The empty space began darkening and growing smaller until there was nowhere left to hide, and I couldn't lie anymore. I should've knew he wouldn't stay from the beginning. Patrick was too good for me, too perfect.
The box grew tighter and smaller every second, each time more agonising than before. I was too messed up. Patrick was beautiful. Knowing him, he most likely dedicated himself to me out of pity.
I screamed for help. Shouting, yelling. I scratched at the walls. But no one, not even Patrick pitied me, and I was left alone to die. It felt like every intake of air was choked out of my lungs.
Smaller and smaller the box compressed my body until I heard my bones breaking. I sobbed out in pure agony before the void around me began to stutter and contort, and the pain abruptly ended.
Patrick was the first thing I saw when I regained consciousness. He was at my side, shushing me and holding my shaking form close in his arms. I didn't want to get his shirt wet, but I couldn't stop the quiet sobs escaping my throat.

Had I been making noises in my sleep? I must've been, because my throat felt like sandpaper, and my entire body was ingulfed in a cold sweat. My face felt damp with tears and more brimmed at my eyes as I shook.

I latched onto the closest thing- which was Patrick. And he did the same. Patrick pulled me into his arms, and cooed calming nonsense I couldn't understand in my ears. But it still felt fucking amazing nonetheless.

We had been sleeping together, so fuck. I must've woke him up with that stupid nightmare. I hid my face in the crook of Patrick's neck, and clung to his warm body under the blankets.

I didn't have many night terrors as violent as these anymore, but when I did, it was a living Hell. All the other times I was only lucky enough that Patrick didn't have to experience them with me. But now- I couldn't stop the sporadic shaking, or the violent sobs that wracked my chest. But despite all that, Patrick was still here.

When I could finally function like a normal Human being again a long time later, I pulled back a bit, but I was never letting go. I must've looked like shit, but Patrick didn't seem to care. Instead he wiped my brow, and kissed me on the lips. I already felt a quadrillion times better.

"You had a nightmare," Patrick breathed when he pulled back, and I but the inside of my cheek. Maybe he was shocked. I never recognized myself after I had a nightmare like that. Plus, I never remembered them being about Patrick. I nodded.

"Yeah, I- yeah." My voice was throaty and it hurt to talk.
"Petey," Patrick sighed, then he groped for my hand and hooked his arm lower around my hip.
"Sorr-sorry, I'm so sorry," I apologised when I realised Patrick was squirming out of my grip to the bedside table. Right, he was leaving, of course.

I squeezed my eyes shut and sniffed, hoping this was just a bad dream too. Patrick groped for the little switch on the bedside lamp and switched it on. Both of us cringed at the sudden light, but it was small. I sighed once he turned back towards me.

"Why're you sorry?" Patrick took my hand in his and snuggled close to me again. I wiped my eyes and laughed dryly. I didn't deserve him.

But my boyfriend grabbed that hand too and pressed my lips to his with care. It wasn't the first time we had kissed, but I knew I would always get that same jumpy feeling in my chest when we did.

I stopped the kiss a moment later and saw Patrick searching for answers on my face. It didn't take a genius to hypothesise that I felt like shit.

"For-For waking y-you up," I stuttered once my voice wasn't so thick. Patrick shook his head and kissed my knuckles.
"Don't. It's okay," he told me and I couldn't believe how better that made me feel.

I wanted to cherish Patrick's presence before the inevitable time came, and he would be asking to leave in that kind way he does.

"I'm not angry at you, Pete. Is that what you think's going on?" He read my mind again, the fucker.
"No, shut the fuck up for a second," Patrick interrupted, and kissed me on my flustered cheek. "Don't think that. I fucking love you, Pete." My breath hitched a little in my throat. I knew he loved me, I just couldn't help it.

"You, you were screaming in your sleep. Shaking and calling my name, and, and I just-"
"I'm sorry you had to wake up to that," I apologised without warning. Patrick sighed and kissed me to shut me up.

"Don't be. You just don't have a lot of nightmares, and especially not as violent as.." Patrick trailed off and gazed into my eyes.
"Yeah, I know," I sniffed a moment later.

I owed my boyfriend an explanation in the least. "I don't have nightmares, or even dream a lot. But sometimes I do, and when I do- well, um, they're not good," I chuckled and wanted to disappear forever.

Patrick gave me a sympathetic look and tugged me closer to his chest. I fell into the invitation and readjusted my hold. "Okay sugar," Patrick mumbled into my hair and I never felt safer. "You wanna talk about it?" I breathed in Patrick's scent and shook my head.

"You were in it," I sniffed into his neck and sighed. Patrick rubbed my back in soothing circles and was silent for a moment, contemplating.

"Alright Pete, we don't have to talk about what happened in it, but, do you remember what I was doing? I dunno, I'm just curious," Patrick shrugged when he saw my confused expression.

I nodded and enjoyed the texture of my boyfriend's soft skin beneath my fingertips. I ran through the events in the dream and suppressed a shudder. Somehow I always remembered my nightmares, a lot of the ones about people who I actually gave a shit about.

"I think you were y-yelling at me, and you l-left. I don't remember what it was 'bout though." I didn't even look up at Patrick this time and kept my eyes closed, listening to the strong beat of his heart. I could hear him thinking while he threaded his fingers through my dark hair.

"I'm sorry," Patrick muttered and hugged me as close as he could. This time, I looked at him.
"You didn't do anything."
He sighed and pecked me on the side of my mouth. "Yeah, well that's not gonna make me stop apologising that you had a nightmare and I scared you in it."
"But I'm okay," I lied.
"Doesn't matter. You still worried me like Hell. You feel like going back to sleep?" I hummed and closed my eyes as the adrenaline rush completely faded, and exhaustion finally started to set in.

Patrick nodded and shifted in my arms to turn the lamp off. "Wait, wait," I startled and my boyfriend stopped to look at me with concern.

"Just- can you leave it on?" I asked in a small voice that must've made me sound like pitiful. A small smile graced Patrick's lips, and he nodded. I hooked an arm back around his hip, and pulled him back down so his back was against my chest.

Patrick complied and sighed once I snuggled up against his back. I grinned into the mark on his neck and kissed it. That sigh turned into a gasp real quick, and Patrick turned his head back around to look at me.

"Sorry," I half smirked, my mischief train of thought faltering for a second when I saw his expression. Patrick rolled his eyes and kissed me. It made me feel safe, which felt weird.

In fact, he flipped back around to face me and pressed up against me. "Can I?" He implied, stroking my hip.

I hummed, half asleep, and flipped around. The next second Patrick pressed up against me with his head on my neck. I wasn't aware how tired I was until then, and got comfortable under the covers in a flash.

I didn't have another nightmare that night, which was a miracle. And both Patrick and I fell asleep a few minutes later with his arms still around me snug, and that stupid lamp still on.
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