Cries of a Love Bat

I was able to get Pete to eventually fall asleep. I stumbled around to find a blanket to pull over us, much to his protest. He was running a slight fever, but nothing that I would drag him home for. He didn’t make noise, besides the intake and outtake of breath. His was tense next me and his twitching skin would rub mine when he stirred.

It burned.

It was like an itch, something that wouldn’t go away unless you scratched the surface. Only in my case the addictive feel of the burn suppressing only came when that skin would come in contact with him. I felt the need to touch him, like if he turned to face me and his hair fell across my arms one more time I wouldn’t be able to control myself.

I knew we were connected, because Patrick told me, and Patrick doesn’t lie. He said four main key points: emotionally, intellectually, physically, and everything in between. But Patrick was a nice guy, so when he said everything in between, he basically meant sexually.

Damn this fucking mark.

I could deal with the emotion. The bottomless pit in my stomach was nothing, especially since Pete really didn’t change much. Anger, frustration, annoyance and depression were all that came from him. They just lingered on the ends of my nerves; the bottom of fringe that you only noticed if you touched, something you could twirl around and pull at.

Dealing with the sexual part of this would have been easier if Pete had not been under William’s control. He couldn’t even tell me what was wrong, and even though that implied that something was defiantly wrong, I didn’t know what to do.

The breath that spilled onto the back of my neck ruined everything. My brain couldn’t function anymore, like it just turned into a pile of goop. I barely even processed the whispered, “Emily,” that came from Pete’s lips, which brushed my skin chastely.

“Fuck Pete, what’s wrong?”

“You need to sleep too.” I rolled over to face him, his eyes dark and wide. “Because if it’s nightmares you’re worried about he can’t get to you with me here.”

I was taken aback. Pete wasn’t in his trance like he was before, he no longer sounded desperate and scared. I licked my lips and softly said, “You’re freaking me out.”

His smile was small. “I’ll try to stop.”

I shook my head, but buried my head in his chest. His smell burned my lungs, rippling through my body so it was forever imprinted in my senses that this was Pete. “How much longer are you going to keep me kidnapped?”

I could tell he was smirking when he said, “As long as you want.”

“I got so used to you being gone I think I’m on overdose right now.”

His hand found mine and he laced my fingers with his. “So am I.”

* * *

Patrick’s P.O.V

“No.”

“What do you mean no?

“Patrick she wasn’t there!” Joe exclaimed. “What else do you want me to do, besides check again?”

“She was in her room.”

“Yeah, we’ve established that already,” Andy stated, shooting Joe a distressed look.

“Dude it’s nine in the morning, I wouldn’t worry that much. It’s not like the vampires can come out and get her.”

“Unless they already have her.”

“Okay Trick, seriously. I’ll go check the park one more time, that’s it,” Joe said, reaching for his coat. “If she’s not there well then there isn’t much left to do besides wait until tonight.”

When he left I got up and fumbled back to my workbench; machine parts, tools, bits of things that I’ve concocted up and dirt haphazardly filled the tabletop. I picked up something like a small handgun and fiddled with the trigger, trying to see if I could unjam it. I had to keep myself busy.

“Patrick, I’m heading to bed,” Andy said from the stairs. “If…if she comes back wake me up.”

“Got it,” I mumbled.

“And Patrick…”

I looked over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“Thanks Andy,” I nodded, turning back to my work.