Allie

That was the point where Patrick and Alyssa began to grow close. Something about the mutual frustration with Pete, and the growing concern for his health made it easier for them to just talk, to get to know each other. It made it easier for them to fall in love.
"It's getting late, I should go.." Alyssa said, wiping the trails of black mascara from her cheek. She pushed herself up from where she'd been cradled against Patrick's chest and grabbed her bag from the floor. Pete had spent the night drinking and it had taken Alyssa over 3 hours to track him down while Patrick sat in the passenger seat and called the hospitals and police stations to see if they'd found him.
When they did, Pete was a mess. He had bruises on his cheeks and blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. He'd been in a fight. They couldn't take him to the hospital, but they called a doctor out to Patrick's house to check him over. He was fine other than a few scrapes and bruises, but nevertheless as soon as the doctor left she was collapsed against Patrick's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Eventually they made it to the couch and sat there in a comfortable silence for what seemed like eternity, until Alyssa had reached for her keys.

"No way, you're not fit to drive and you know it," He said, grabbing her keys just before she did.
"I'll be fine-" she protested, but to no avail.
"I won't let you- you could kill yourself out there." Alyssa looked up at him, eyes wide and full of innocence.
He laughed and stood, stretching his arms as he did. "You know that won't work on me" he smiled wryly.
Alyssa returned the grin with one of her own, and put her bag down.
"Fine, where am I staying? Pete's in the spare room and I'm fairly sure your wi- wait, where's Elisa?" She looked around, just now noticing the distinct lack of organisation in the house.
"Oh, she's- um, she's at her sister's in New York. We had a fight and, I don't know. I slept in the spare room and in the morning she was just... gone. She won't return my calls or texts- nor will her sister- and -I just-" His voice portrayed his panic more than anything he said and he slumped down on the sofa, shoulders hunched over. Alyssa knelt down in front of him, cupping his face in her hands and tilting it upwards. His glistening eyes met hers and she smiled reassuringly.
"I'll make us some tea" She said, moving to the kitchen.
She returned with two steaming mugs of Jasmine tea and set them down on the coffee table.
"I just- I expected things to change when we got married, sure, but not- not like this." She nodded and curled up at the other end of the couch.
"I mean, it's like she doesn't even care anymore. We get home and all we do is fight, and she doesn't support my music- says it's not 'practical' if we want to raise a family, and I remind her that Pete can do it and- and I don't know why but she hates him. Every time I bring up anything to do with the band or Pete or Bronx she just... switches off. Hell, last week I she told me she got me an interview at an office somewhere and I just- an office! Can you imagine me in an office Lyss?" He laughed, almost hysterically, and took a sip of his tea.
"It's like she doesn't believe in me anymore- and that's something I'll ever get used to." Patrick was serious now, staring into his mug as if it held all the answers.
"It makes me feel like I'm useless, like I can't get it right- I can't get the only thing I've ever been able to do right. I feel like I did back when Take This To Your Grave came out, and no one considered it a 'real' job- just a child's pastime. Maybe I should just... give up." He shrugged.
"Don't say that- Don't you dare say that, you hear me?" Alyssa sat up abruptly.
"You are an amazing musician. You write, you sing, you play- you even produce! And you love doing it. What happened to 'If you don't like what you're doing, you shouldn't be doing it'? You have been to places Take This To Your Grave Patrick would never have dreamed off- sell out arena tours across the world? You've done it. Two generations of fans? You've done it. You've saved people's lives- they've even told you that. You saved mine, too- I would be on the streets starving, or maybe even dead if it weren't for you guys. You gave me a job and consequently I met some of the greatest, strongest and most inspired people I've ever known." Alyssa rose up to stand in front of her friend.
"You saved my life, Patrick Stump, and I will forever be in your debt" She said, with a bow of her head.
"Stop being dramatic" Patrick stood up, to match Alyssa's position. "And get your ass over here" He smirked, pulling his friend into a bear hug.
He was surprisingly strong, and so the force with which he yanked her arm caused them both to topple on to the couch. There was laughter from the two, followed by a long awkward pause as Alyssa noticed their position.
She was sat straddling Patrick's lap, and his hands had found their way down to her hips during the fall, which had also caused Alyssa's form fitting tank top to ride up, exposing the skin where his hands were. Their faces were merely inches apart, and Patrick could hear Alyssa's heavy breathing, as she could undoubtedly hear his. The tension grew, and the suspense held them there, gazing into each other's dilated eyes. Their lips drew closer, until they were almost touching and then closer until- Alyssa's phone buzzed.
She jumped back frantically, stunned by the intensity of the moment.
"I should get that-" She stammered, grabbing her bag.
"I'll- um- get you a T-Shirt or something..." Patrick muttered as he practically ran up the stairs, desperate to escape the perplexing emotions that had sparked during after they'd fallen.
Alyssa finally found her phone, and glanced at the message. Not important.
When Patrick returned, he returned with blankets and a T-Shirt and then retreated back upstairs, desperately trying to convince himself that nothing had happened, but it was no use. He'd felt something that he hadn't felt with Elisa for a long time.

'Well shit,' thought Alyssa.