literature

Half Dead Smiles 2

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ClandestineBatHeart1's avatar
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Literature Text

Patrick sat his soaking wet friend down on his couch while hurrying away to fetch him a towel. "I'm sorry Patrick. . ." Pete mumbled over his breath, barely louder than a whisper. Patrick grabbed the towel off the counter and rushed back to Pete. Patrick brought Pete's face up with his index finger and cleaned the black mess on his face. "Don't be. It's just a couch, Pete. It's replaceable. Unfortunately you're not. What the hell were you doing out in the pouring rain there Pete?" Patrick asked, worrying over his best friend's well being. Pete shook his head. "Nothing, ju-just forget about it, Trick. It's not worth your time. I'll just leave. . ." Pete attempted to get up but was overpowered by Patrick. Patrick set Pete back against the couch with his own body weight and stared Pete in the eyes. "Listen to me, you are not going out there at two in the fucking morning with soaking clothes and no car. I'm your friend Pete, I can't let you do that." Patrick smiled and sat down beside Pete. Pete laughed half-hearted and slumped against the back of the couch. Patrick shook his head and sighed. "You're making this harder for me, aren't you?" Patrick leaned over to Pete and placed his hands on the bottom of Pete's shirt. "Here's what we'll do, first, we'll take your clothes off and get you some of mine for tonight, then you'll take a quick shower. Don't worry Pete, you can sleep in my bed tonight and I'll gladly bunk on the dry couch." Patrick snickered slightly at his own joke while smiling. "Ok?" Pete didn't say a word, but looked over at Patrick. Patrick didn't have to hear what Pete needed to say. He could always tell.

Patrick pulled the shirt over Pete's head and threw it to the side. "I'll let you do the rest." Patrick helped Pete up by his hand as they went to the restroom. Pete walked along Patrick's side as he admired the many paintings and pictures that engulfed the wall. His friend was very amazed by the many different views on art, that the artist on the wall shared. But, Pete? He could care less about art if it didn't seem to ignite a fire to his imagination. Few did, but some had an exception. Pete wished he could see things the way Patrick did, for Patrick saw life beyond it's hard and crucial exterior.

After Pete showered and dressed, he walked over to the door of Patrick's room. As he was walking through the small hallway, Pete saw pictures of all of them at their first apartment, playing around happily in the front yard. Pete smiled to himself. Oh, how he missed the old times. "Pete?" Pete spun around to see Patrick in black boxer briefs and a tight wife beater top. "Oh, I'm sorry Patrick. I was just going to bed." Patrick looked at Pete with a smile. "Hard to believe that was us, huh?" Pete nodded. "I miss those old times, you know?" Patrick continued. "But of course, all good things come to an end sooner or later, right?" Pete didn't respond, but just frowned. "Not all good things have to come to an end, Patrick. Not all of them." Pete slipped into Patrick's bedroom without another word and feeling worse than before. Pete began thinking to himself on the foot of the bed again. Why can't I just say it? Just come out and tell him? It seems that the closer I get to someone, the more they seem to drift away. . . Will anyone ever stay? Pete put his face in his hands as he felt his warm tears begin to slip. "I stayed. . ." Pete stopped and looked up to Patrick standing in his bedroom doorway. "And I always will Pete. You just have to let me. . ." Pete didn't say a word. How much did he hear? Did I actually say those things out loud? "Oh yeah, Patrick?! I just have to let you! I wish it was that easy!" Pete's anger began to well up in his throat, clawing at him to get out. "God, Patrick you make it sound so simple! You think I wanted everything to come to this?! I never asked for any of this Patrick!" Pete's tears were like gushing waterfalls against his skin. "Patrick, I-I-"
. . . .
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prince2345's avatar
ohhh cliffy!!! how evil of you!!