You Couldn't Hate Enough To Love

Nerves fluttered in the pit of Patrick's stomach when he pulled his eyes open and ran through the events of the previous night in his mind. This time he was sure that Sydney would say or do something; the act in itself could not be ignored. A warm arm slunk around his waist and Patrick grimaced before shoving his arm off and crawling out of bed and throwing the clothes he had abandoned on the floor the night before back on. For a second he thought about gently pecking him on the forehead, but thought better of it and exited the house without a word to anyone.

As he meandered down the narrow streets; guilt started to overwhelm all of his senses. The smell of last night's boy clung to the fabric of his shirt and made him want to vomit. The events of last night kept playing in his head continuously and he couldn't believe that he had just walked away like he did after everything they had been through together.

Sighing, he stepped into a phone booth on a corner and began to type in the number he had committed to memory a year before. It would be a miracle if Sydney picked up; this wasn't exactly the phone number he would normally use. Apparently cell phones and punch bowls don't mix very well. On the second ring, a groggy Sydney slurred a greeting into the phone and Patrick felt his stomach drop.

"Hi, Sydney. It's Patrick..."

"I guessed as much," he sighed. Patrick could feel the tears prickling in the back of his eyes and before long he was crying apologies into the phone. He knew that he was in the wrong in this instance by far, so he wasn't sure why he was the one who was so hurt by it. "Stop blubbering already. I'll meet you at the coffeehouse. Yeesh..."

A swift click informed Patrick that he had been hung up on, so he drug his sniveling form to the coffeehouse he knew his boyfriend had been referring to. By the time he arrived, Sydney had already shown up. A coffee sat where he was supposed to be, and this just made Patrick want to start crying all over again.

When he sat down, he couldn't help but let a few tears escape and he took a few quick gasps of breath to calm himself. A flicker of worry passed over Sydney's face, but he said nothing. There wasn't any warmth to his greeting, and it occurred to Patrick that if people didn't know they were dating, it would be the very last thing they assumed.

"Is there a particular reason you're crying?"

"I have something to tell you..." he murmured in response.

"I know, otherwise you wouldn't have called me," Sydney replied while rolling his eyes. The dismissal in his voice made Patrick's blood run cold, and then boil with rage.

"What are you talking about? I call you all the time," he hissed as he crossed his arms over his chest. Being slightly self conscious of the tantrum he was throwing, he took a quick glance around at the few people in the coffee shop. The gesture was unnecessary as all of the tables were unoccupied and the waitress had disappeared into the back room.

"Yeah, I know! That's because you always have something to tell me. You're so fucking melodramatic sometimes," Sydney spit out snippily. After hearing this, Patrick stood and was about to leave, but then he heard Sydney muttering and chuckling. "You say you want to talk, get pissed off, and then leave. Mel-o-dra-ma."

"I do want to talk, but you're being a prick!" Patrick screamed. Once again, he looked around to see if anyone was staring at them, but the coffee shop hadn't gained any new customers in the minute and a half that had passed. A flush still crept up his neck and across his cheeks as Sydney narrowed his eyes.

"You completely ditched me at that party last night, got drunk, fucked my best friend, and somehow I'm the prick?" Sydney spat. The words were choked out bitterly, and Patrick wanted to rush over and hug him, but found himself staring blankly at his boyfriend. "What? You thought I didn't know?"

A faint smirk spread across Sydney's lips and tried to leave the coffee house but felt his wrist being held onto tightly. He almost felt relieved until he felt the coffee cup being placed in his hand, and then his arm was casually released. The whipping wind made the tears on his face seem even colder and Patrick couldn't help but feel the nausea and the smile growing at the same time.

Sydney never cared at all; it was all the same to him whether they remained together. Even if it wasn't the response he wanted, he was pleased to finally have his answer.