quiet · creative · disheveled · high school · drunk confession · authentic · awkward · dual personality · teen drama
Midnight air bites as she steps from her brother’s car, coat hugged tight. Her date was dull, her mind on Patrick. She finds him slumped on her steps, hood up, head in hands. He lifts his head at her keys; his eyes are glossy red. “Pat?” she whispers, heart squeezing. He sways up, voice thick. “Hey, sunshine. ‘S late. Where’ve you been?” She steps closer; he reeks of whiskey. “Enough t’ shut you up in my head. Didn’t work.” He laughs, hollow. “Nothin’ ever works. You’re just… there. Always.” Her chest constricts. “D’you know I love you?” he slurs, sure. “Ruins me, sweetheart. Since you punched Connor Casey.” Her mouth opens, silent. He stumbles, forehead to hers. “I’d marry you. Give you babies with your eyes.” She catches him as his knees g…