Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > These Are The Seeds We Sew


by whatkatydid 10 reviews

Don't make me fall for you.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: R - Genres: Drama - Warnings: [X] - Published: 2007-06-28 - Updated: 2007-06-29 - 2004 words


Chapter Six

I'd been on a 3 week stint in Europe, I was tired and I wanted home comforts. I wanted Charlie.

Gingerly, my fingers hovered over the various numbers of her cell number

I didn't want to put the phone to my ear, I just wanted her with me in Chicago.


She sounded hurried.


"Yeah!?" She asked a little short.

"It's Patrick."

She didn't say anything, but I heard her breath gently ease down the various wonders of technology right into my ear.

"Patrick...." She whispered.

"Patrick Stump-"

"-I know you douche." She laughed gently.

"How are you?" I asked, I really did want to know.

"I'm OK. More importantly how are you?" she asked me. I laid back on my bed.

"I'm in Chicago.....I'm home for a whole 2 weeks." I explained.

"Wow, 2 weeks, that's not forever at all."

"No, no it isn't." I laughed.

"Are you gonna be in LA?" she asked, there was a brief strain of excitement to her dolce tone of voice.

"No...No I gotta spend some time at home y' with my real life." I explained.

There was a silence, I just drew on good air and asked her:

"Come visit me Charlie - I wanna see you so much!!"

"What?! Are you kidding?"

Wow, that didn't go as I wanted it do.

"Oh you're not joking, you really want me to come over there?"

"I do....Maybe just at the weekend, I don't know what your plans are for the next week or so."

I could tell she was musing, maybe chewing on the cupid bow lip of hers too, I'd love to be watching it.

"I'll get your flight sorted, just tell me when you can come and I'll book it all."

Another silence.

"Are you still there-

"-I'm still here you silly thing." She whispered to me.

"I can come Thursday." She said.

"Thursday would be perfect." I smiled.


Thursday was perfect too, it was lashing with rain, it was deplorable weather to welcome a girl to my home to. She wasn't difficult to miss as she walked around the arrivals suite. I couldn't help but watch her for a while, anonymously from the safety of a huge support pillar. She was curiously looking around, it soon developed into anxiety as she failed to find me.

I held the cell to my ear, watched her answer it quickly.

"You look beautiful." I said to her, now she was smiling, she stopped and held the phone close, keeping her small suitcase to her shins.

"Come rescue me, I'm freaking out here." She laughed gently.

"2 O'clock." I said her and she looked immediately to me, damn she was quick and now her bright eyes were on me. Her smile grew even wider and she flipped her phone shut, moving towards me.

"Hi!" she said breathlessly. I just smiled at her. We stood before each other, completely foreign to this method of greeting one another, usually I would have had her clothes off already.

I refrained.

We didn't hug or kiss.

But as I guided her with me as we departed O'Hare, we kept glancing at one another.

She informed me she hated flying and was sick 3 times here. It just made me appreciate her selflessness. Even if she was a hooker, it still meant she gave of herself, even if in some degraded manner.

I still wasn't sure if she treated all men like she did me, I hoped it was a unique transactional encounter we had, I hoped she didn't hold other men's head's close to her chest like she did mine, hoped she didn't repeatedly kiss worries and anxieties away, hoped her feet didn't entangled in other men's legs like they did for me and most of all, I hoped she didn't whisper to them like she would to me.


"Another nice place!" she said as she followed me into my house.


"You like weird things, I like it." She observed. I smiled and hung both our wet jackets up to dry.

As I turned, I saw her closely inspecting my belongings.

"That's beautiful." She said, touching the art work.

"Isn't it? I know nothing about Art, only how it makes me feel." I said, joining her.

"My Mother's an artist..." she said gently, touching the canvas and running her fingers over the textured brush strokes.


"Yeah....she's the most beautiful artist in the world!" Charlie said, her whole face had lit up.

"I don't even doubt it."

Charlie looked at me, she was being beautifully inquisitive.

"Did she ever paint you?" I asked, I was really interested too because I know it would have been the most truly wonderful art.

"Once...I never saw it though."

"You never saw it? I don't understand...."

"When my Father found out about my.....profession.....he made her destroy it."

I knew I was looking at her in shock, I could the distress on my brow.


"Why do you think?? He was ashamed of me.....humiliated!" she said angrily.

She looked back to the painting again, touching it.

"I haven't seen them for almost 2 years." She said sadly.

"Where are they?" I asked

"They're in LA, but they have nothing to do with me....My Mother would do, but she's so scared of my Father, he has a fine reputation, he's a successful business man but he was a shit Father."

"I'm sorry Charlie."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." She said, smiling briefly

"You know what I meant." I said sympathetically.

She stared at me for a few moments and honestly, I had no idea what was going on in that head of hers but I knew I wanted to make it better.

After coming out from the shower, I could tell Charlie was back to her usual self, she had seduction back in those eyes. It wasn't always in a sexual way. Her eyes commanded this undue attention when you looked into them, I'd really fallen in love with them.

I took the towel from her hands and she stood in her underwear before me, her hair wet over her shoulders.

I cupped her chin firmly in my hand and kissed her.

"I'm glad you came out to Chicago."

"I'm glad you invited me." She smiled back at me. Perfect.

I carried out my usual ritual of bringing in some red wine and the glasses. There was nothing better than drinking with her afterwards, seeing the wine relax her even further.

The bathroom door opened and as she walked out, I dropped one of the glasses, it smashed on my wooden floor instantly. Her eyes opened wide but my eyes were still gawping at her in the lingerie she was now wearing. She quickly looked down and then back at me.

"You don't like it?" she frowned.

"I...I, er..."

Great, now I was stuttering like a teenage boy and I knew I would not be in control at all now for the rest of the evening.

She moved towards me, she floated over, it was incredible. She knelt at my feet and picked up the broken glass and placed it on my dresser. She gently took the bottle of wine and remaining glass from my hand, putting them on the dresser too.

Her eyes just stayed on mine faithfully.

She walked over to the door to turn off the lights.

"No." I said. She stopped and turned to me.

"Leave them on..." I said gently, she smirked and tip toed her way back over, careful not to step on any splinters of glass.

Carefully, she unbuttoned my shirt one by one, sliding her hands over my chest when she had and slipping the fabric off my shoulders. She unfastened my belt too and we both laughed as she tugged it roughly from the belt loops of my jeans and tossed it on the floor.

I firmly pushed her down on to the bed and clambered over with the grace of an ox, my bed etiquette still needed major work but I was no dancer. Whatever I did, Charlie made me feel I was the most wonderful lover in the world and I would never forget that about her.

"You hair is shorter.." she said as the usual tangling of her fingers in my hair was a little more difficult.

"I'm sorry, it was getting way too long."

She just laughed gently and squeezed my neck firmly as she kissed me and I heard her gasp silently into my lips as I gently touched her feminine area.

"You're so gentle!" she whispered to me. I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing but then I heard the softest moan from her and I knew it must have been a half decent attempt.

Her hips gently moved and her lips opened as she reacted to my touch.

"Right there!" she gasped suddenly, I assumed referring to where my fingers were gently but repetitively stroking. I obeyed her plea and what was achieved was, I'm sure, the most incredible thing I'd seen in my life. I watched her whimper helplessly at my touch and her fingers clawed at the sheets without self restraint. The bewildering aspect of this was how her eyes stayed on mine, she had no shame that she was being pleasured, she even encouraged me to do it right. She was truly teaching me how to express myself with a woman and it was all unfamiliar territory to me.

I felt her tighten, I was scared, scared of what I was doing and scared of what she was going to do but I shouldn't have been.

What resulted was exquisite.

She thanked me.

I frowned at her, not for any other reason than I was captivated by her manner. She seemed to be restless, fighting with an inside motion, I wasn't sure. I remained above her, watching her orgasm simmer and waiting for her to open her eyes and look at me.

"Charlie?" I asked, I was impatient.

She kept her eyes closed and continued to wrestle with whatever emotions where going through her head.

"No-one's ever touched me like that before...." She said weakly.

I couldn't believe that, how could any man who was with her not want to treat her like a queen? I couldn't understand it.

And there they were.

Her eyes.

Watching me.

"I'm sorry." She whispered gently.

"Don't be's not your fault." I whispered back and let my body gently fold onto hers.


She sipped the wine and then handed the glass back to me as she sat on my lap.

"So, what was your favorite part of Europe?" she asked me, draping her arms over my shoulder.

"Uhhh probably London."

"Evenin' Governor!" she said in the most adorable English accent.

"That was adorable." I said, she laughed it off.

"Everything you see in the films, the culture, the buildings, the weather - it's all true, I think I didn't believe it." I explained.

"I would love to go!" she smiled.

"I'll take you!" I said excitedly.

She stared at me, she didn't believe me, I could tell.

"Charlie, I'll take you to London, if that's what you wanna do, we'll go." I aid enthusiastically.


"-You wanna go tomorrow, we can go tomorrow." I said, I was getting so excited at the prospect of showing the world to her.

"What??" she laughed, she playfully pushed at my shoulders.

"Have you got your passport?" I asked her, her face dropped.


"Then we go to London." I said firmly.

"We go to London" She repeated pessimistically.

"Tomorrow." I reaffirmed.

She laughed heartily.

"Ok!" she smiled.

"OK." I agreed.

We did it too, we went to London.

It was pivotal.

As I looked at her in the seat after 4 hours of flying, I knew something had changed.

It was somewhere over that vast Atlantic ocean that I fell in love with her. Love.

I was falling in love with Charlie.
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