Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Stiches And Scars
Part 11
Run Where You'll Be Safe
Stacy twisted her torso as the sheets began to wrap themselves delicately around her body. She moaned as the sunlight around her eyes began to contract and pain thumped throughout her body. Her eyelids began to flicker around her as the morning light began to filter throughout her limbs. She began to open her eye lids at the delicate breeze that began to freeze her flesh that was on show. It was at that moment when a realization hit her; she was not in her own room nor was she in her own house. In fact, the setting was completely out of her context but strangely familiar at the same time. She snapped her eyes fully open and in took her surroundings and they bounced around her as though the room were spinning. She focused and sat up inside the bed, finally knowing that she was in Patrick’s room.
Instant panic flowed through her as she began to worry whether they had slept with each other. Stacy let her mind roll back to the previous night and all the events were a whirlwind. Perhaps the alcohol had hit her harder than she knew; she remembered the party, leaving Brian and finally finding herself at Patrick’s, but did he? Did they? She placed her head in her hands and found her arms were sleeved. She threw off the covers where she resided and sighed in relief as she was still wearing her clothes. Peeling the duvet from her body, she stepped onto the carpet underneath his bed. She dug her toes as if they offered her comfort for the more she remembered, the more her heart began to break. She padded over the room and was careful not to make a sound though the floorboards began to creak. She bit her lip and pushed open the door. She stepped down the stairwell and found her bag on a table just inside the living room. A light snore was emanating from the room. Gently, she pushed the door open and found Patrick lying, fully clothed, upon the coach with blanket wrapped around him. He was fast asleep and the television was flickering images at him. Stacy sighed with a moment of love for him and picked up her bag and keys from the table. Being careful not to stir him, she walked over to a fresh pad of paper and wrote him a little note. With her eyes still on his body, rising up and down with oxygen, she backed slowly out of the house. She almost ran to her car, thrusting the keys into the ignition and driving fast along the curved roads.
Stacy could not help but cry, for once in her life there was no clear path; waking up inside Patrick’s room made her realise that she did still love him but she also needed and loved Brian too. It was turmoil, she had moved on from Patrick but with one clear moment she had fallen and she had left Brian but some of her senses were pleading to take it back. Voices around her mind were whispering messages and they were all incoherent in some way. As she made her way to her home, she placed her hand to her forehead and began to plead with herself, pray that there was some way.
As Stacy curved along her driveway she peered into the house, there were no curtains open and Brian’s car sat comfortably next to hers. She let out a bated breath and stepped out of the door. Placing her keys in the lock she silently opened it, hearing the sweet sound of Brian’s sleeping breaths. She crept around as a thief and found him sprawled across the sofa, a hand clutching a whiskey glass; the phone was off the hook. She silently placed it onto the holder and smiled sweetly at him, praying that he did not wake from his almost coma like position. Stacy stepped up the stairs and dragged her suitcase from the wardrobe and wasted no time in filling it with her clothes and belongings. True this was her home, but she had no other choice, it was she that was in the wrong. With tears still streaming down her eyes she dragged the zip along the case and closed it tight. Solemnly, she walked down the stairs, holding her heart in her hands. She scrawled upon a piece of paper beside the hallway phone, a note for Brian. And she let the daylight take her away from her home. She threw her cases into the car and drove away from everything she knew, everything she loved and everything that hurt. The only way Stacy’s heart could move on, was to run, run until she was found.
~@~
Patrick heard the thunder like engine stream from his home. He stirred from his slumber and felt the cricks of the sofa hit every aching muscle in his home. His lifted his watch to his eyes and peered at the time. It was just dawning afternoon and he sighed, wondering how much sleep he had actually taken and how many thoughts whittled throughout him. He sat up and moaned as he stretched his limbs into the wide and his eyes caught the tear stained shirt he was wearing. He felt his heart sink with sorrow as Stacy only lay above him, in complete heartache. Patrick rolled the blanket away from his body and began to step out of the room and up the stairs.
”Stacy?” He called to make sure she was awake or even suited for his entrance. When no response was heard, Patrick pushed the door open and was shocked to fin that she was not there, just the deep imprint of her body and the twists in the sheets. With an ounce of worry and regret that he hadn’t caught her, Patrick turned and began to rush down the stairs. “Stacy?”
He said it louder as though she maybe in his kitchen but her bag and her keys were not were he had placed them but instead there was a note, her sloppy writing scrawled across it.
Goodbye, For Now.
X
Elsewhere, Brian’s note read the same.
*
Ciao Bella
Run Where You'll Be Safe
Stacy twisted her torso as the sheets began to wrap themselves delicately around her body. She moaned as the sunlight around her eyes began to contract and pain thumped throughout her body. Her eyelids began to flicker around her as the morning light began to filter throughout her limbs. She began to open her eye lids at the delicate breeze that began to freeze her flesh that was on show. It was at that moment when a realization hit her; she was not in her own room nor was she in her own house. In fact, the setting was completely out of her context but strangely familiar at the same time. She snapped her eyes fully open and in took her surroundings and they bounced around her as though the room were spinning. She focused and sat up inside the bed, finally knowing that she was in Patrick’s room.
Instant panic flowed through her as she began to worry whether they had slept with each other. Stacy let her mind roll back to the previous night and all the events were a whirlwind. Perhaps the alcohol had hit her harder than she knew; she remembered the party, leaving Brian and finally finding herself at Patrick’s, but did he? Did they? She placed her head in her hands and found her arms were sleeved. She threw off the covers where she resided and sighed in relief as she was still wearing her clothes. Peeling the duvet from her body, she stepped onto the carpet underneath his bed. She dug her toes as if they offered her comfort for the more she remembered, the more her heart began to break. She padded over the room and was careful not to make a sound though the floorboards began to creak. She bit her lip and pushed open the door. She stepped down the stairwell and found her bag on a table just inside the living room. A light snore was emanating from the room. Gently, she pushed the door open and found Patrick lying, fully clothed, upon the coach with blanket wrapped around him. He was fast asleep and the television was flickering images at him. Stacy sighed with a moment of love for him and picked up her bag and keys from the table. Being careful not to stir him, she walked over to a fresh pad of paper and wrote him a little note. With her eyes still on his body, rising up and down with oxygen, she backed slowly out of the house. She almost ran to her car, thrusting the keys into the ignition and driving fast along the curved roads.
Stacy could not help but cry, for once in her life there was no clear path; waking up inside Patrick’s room made her realise that she did still love him but she also needed and loved Brian too. It was turmoil, she had moved on from Patrick but with one clear moment she had fallen and she had left Brian but some of her senses were pleading to take it back. Voices around her mind were whispering messages and they were all incoherent in some way. As she made her way to her home, she placed her hand to her forehead and began to plead with herself, pray that there was some way.
As Stacy curved along her driveway she peered into the house, there were no curtains open and Brian’s car sat comfortably next to hers. She let out a bated breath and stepped out of the door. Placing her keys in the lock she silently opened it, hearing the sweet sound of Brian’s sleeping breaths. She crept around as a thief and found him sprawled across the sofa, a hand clutching a whiskey glass; the phone was off the hook. She silently placed it onto the holder and smiled sweetly at him, praying that he did not wake from his almost coma like position. Stacy stepped up the stairs and dragged her suitcase from the wardrobe and wasted no time in filling it with her clothes and belongings. True this was her home, but she had no other choice, it was she that was in the wrong. With tears still streaming down her eyes she dragged the zip along the case and closed it tight. Solemnly, she walked down the stairs, holding her heart in her hands. She scrawled upon a piece of paper beside the hallway phone, a note for Brian. And she let the daylight take her away from her home. She threw her cases into the car and drove away from everything she knew, everything she loved and everything that hurt. The only way Stacy’s heart could move on, was to run, run until she was found.
~@~
Patrick heard the thunder like engine stream from his home. He stirred from his slumber and felt the cricks of the sofa hit every aching muscle in his home. His lifted his watch to his eyes and peered at the time. It was just dawning afternoon and he sighed, wondering how much sleep he had actually taken and how many thoughts whittled throughout him. He sat up and moaned as he stretched his limbs into the wide and his eyes caught the tear stained shirt he was wearing. He felt his heart sink with sorrow as Stacy only lay above him, in complete heartache. Patrick rolled the blanket away from his body and began to step out of the room and up the stairs.
”Stacy?” He called to make sure she was awake or even suited for his entrance. When no response was heard, Patrick pushed the door open and was shocked to fin that she was not there, just the deep imprint of her body and the twists in the sheets. With an ounce of worry and regret that he hadn’t caught her, Patrick turned and began to rush down the stairs. “Stacy?”
He said it louder as though she maybe in his kitchen but her bag and her keys were not were he had placed them but instead there was a note, her sloppy writing scrawled across it.
Goodbye, For Now.
X
Elsewhere, Brian’s note read the same.
*
Ciao Bella
Sign up to rate and review this story