Cold Hands
Eleven
He won’t stop crying.
It’s kind of beautiful, really, how broken he is. He’s so carefree, so happy, and he carries the weight of everyone’s pain on his back.
Weight. What an unpleasant word.
Patrick rubs a hand across Brendon’s back slowly, feeling the slow heat rise from the friction. Brendon has his head buried in Patricks shoulder and he can accurately feel the hot salt of tears, the tangy sense of self-hatred. Patrick knows the sensation well; his cold hands sting with the salt every night.
They’re drunk and it’s 3am and they’ve stopped in Amsterdam for the night and Pete and Ryan left early. Brendon took one look at their empty seats and started to shake. Patrick felt empty. It’s not like he didn’t know, because he did, all too well, it’s just that.
To have it thrown in his face like that.
He preferred it when it he couldn’t see it.
Brendon says ‘I love him.’ And Patrick feels the depths of his being fall away from him, the mere flesh of his oversized body holding him in place next to Brendon. Brendon says ‘I worry about him so much.’ and Patrick says ‘I know.’ and it’s all tears and horror from there.
When Spencer comes to get Brendon hours later, it’s that knowing look and gentle nod that tells Patrick he’s not the only one who knows. He doesn’t want to hear Brendon’s gentle cries as he leaves but they sound so much like his missing heart he lost somewhere in a toilet basin.
It’s kind of beautiful, really, how broken he is. He’s so carefree, so happy, and he carries the weight of everyone’s pain on his back.
Weight. What an unpleasant word.
Patrick rubs a hand across Brendon’s back slowly, feeling the slow heat rise from the friction. Brendon has his head buried in Patricks shoulder and he can accurately feel the hot salt of tears, the tangy sense of self-hatred. Patrick knows the sensation well; his cold hands sting with the salt every night.
They’re drunk and it’s 3am and they’ve stopped in Amsterdam for the night and Pete and Ryan left early. Brendon took one look at their empty seats and started to shake. Patrick felt empty. It’s not like he didn’t know, because he did, all too well, it’s just that.
To have it thrown in his face like that.
He preferred it when it he couldn’t see it.
Brendon says ‘I love him.’ And Patrick feels the depths of his being fall away from him, the mere flesh of his oversized body holding him in place next to Brendon. Brendon says ‘I worry about him so much.’ and Patrick says ‘I know.’ and it’s all tears and horror from there.
When Spencer comes to get Brendon hours later, it’s that knowing look and gentle nod that tells Patrick he’s not the only one who knows. He doesn’t want to hear Brendon’s gentle cries as he leaves but they sound so much like his missing heart he lost somewhere in a toilet basin.
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new layout y/n?