Settle Down

The next two weeks were hellish. Both Patrick and Charley were being cold to each other, just like they had been growing up. After the fight they had after the night at the club, they never talked about. They didn't speak for two days after it, and then when they did again, they’re words and tones were rude, blunt, and sarcastic.

Part of the reason Patrick was being so crude was because of his feelings towards Charley. He didn't want to feel the way he did so he figured that making her someone he didn't care about again would do the trick. Also, if he made her not like him, there wouldn't be any point in feeling the way he does.

Neither strategies were working.

Even though he'd be as much of an asshole to her as possible, he couldn't help but watch her from a distance. Everything she did had started to mesmerize him. He would stay up late at night finding himself thinking of her and even when he tried to shake the thoughts, she would somehow sneak back into his mind. It was unfair to him, that he could be so infatuated with her and have to be so distant and cold towards her.

On the flip side, Charley was confused of why Patrick had suddenly changed back to his old self. She was finally starting to want to be friends with him and work hard to make the living situation work, but after the night at the club, they were back to square one. It was really irritating too. Charley had started to avoid being at their place as much as possible, whether it was studying at a Starbucks for hours after her classes, going over to Lane's house, going on runs, or even locking herself in her room if there was no other place to be. She'd stopped making food for him too. If she did cook, it was something small for her. She'd started going out to eat a lot just to stay out longer, but that was starting to get expensive.

"I don't get it." she said to Lane over dinner one night.
"I bet he secretly is in love with you or something." Lane responded, only half joking. Charley rolled her eyes at her friend.
"But things were going fine, up until that night. He acted like he was in charge of me, then couldn't explain himself." Charley explained.
"He probably just felt some responsibility because your Jessica's best friend, but he couldn't bring himself to tell you that because of the history between you two." Lane said. Charley let that sit for a second; Lane was probably right. They finished eating, said their goodbyes and parted ways.

On the way home, Charley started thinking. Two beers with dinner and thinking was not a very good combination for her.
Why is Patrick avoiding me? Why is he being so rude? He thinks I'm disgusting. He hates me, just like everyone else. Am I rude? What is wrong with me? she thought to herself. About two blocks from home, she passed a grocery store, but a few feet after she walked passed it, she turned back and went inside. She grabbed a few bottles of Yellow Tail Merlot, then finished the cold and snowy trek back to the condo. Patrick would be back later that night from his road trip, but Charley would most likely be in bed by then.

When she got back, she changed into yoga pants and a hoodie, opened one of the bottles, and got comfortable on the couch. She found a movie on Netflix then went to work on the wine. She drank and drank and went through a bottle and a half of the 3 bottles she bought. The movie had ended before she got done with the first bottle, but she wasn't paying attention. All she cared about was the red liquid taking her mind off of everything, but that was quite the opposite of what happened. Her thoughts from the walk home came back, and this time they were more self-depreciating. The more she drank, the harsher the thoughts.

Patrick got home earlier than he thought, and he was grateful. It was around 1 AM when he got up to his floor and unlocked the door. He walked in and found quite a surprising scene. Charley was laying on the couch, her arm hanging off the side and a bottle of wine spilled on the floor. It looked like she was drinking it, then fell asleep with it still in her hand.
The noise from the door closing woke Charley from her sleep. She immediately sat up and gathered her surroundings. When she sat up and put her feet on the floor, they landed in something wet and sticky. She looked down and saw the mess she'd made below her.
"Fuck." she said, then sighed loudly and put her head in her hands. She was still kind of drunk but her head was already pounding. Patrick smirked, but then went to the kitchen and grabbed the roll of paper towels and some floor cleaner. He made his way back over, then knelt down next to her. Without saying anything, he took her ankle and picked her foot up to get all of the spilled and sticky drink off of her. The spot on her ankle where he touched her felt like there was a hole burning through her skin. She almost liked the way his rough and calloused hands were working, but then she told herself to stop. Patrick liked how soft and smooth her skin was, but then told himself to stop and that her lotion didn't smell that great. When he finished, he moved her feet aside and got to work on the floor.
"Let me do it, it's my fault." she said, reaching for the roll of towels just as Patrick was. Their hands bumped, and they made eye contact, but each quickly looked away. They both cleaned up the spill, Patrick wanting any excuse not to go back to his room and away from her yet. It didn't really even matter that he did help though, because as soon as they were done she threw the wet towels away and went to her room. When she walked away, Patrick ran his hands through his blonde curls and followed to his room.

The next few days were just like the past weeks had been: filled with tension and mostly silence.

Things didn't heat up again until Patrick came home after a game to find Charley laying on the couch with some guy. He was pretty sure they'd been making out before he walked in, because as soon as he did there was sudden movement, blushed faces and swollen lips. Patrick made a noise between a scoff and chuckle, then proceeded to his bedroom. On the inside, he was upset that there was no warning she was having someone over and also that she had someone over and was making out with him.
From his room, he would occasionally hear laughing, the sound of mouths making some pretty disturbing noises, and the name Jase. He tried distracting himself from listening by doing stuff on his phone but kept catching himself listening to them. About an hour later, he heard actual talking and the sound of the door closing and him leaving.

Events like this happened quite a bit, and Jase was around a lot more over the next week or so. Charley said that they were just 'studying.'
Patrick had had enough of the ‘studying’ though when one night he came out of his room to find Jase going through the fridge and taking a few cans of beer, putting them into the pockets of his cargo shorts and a few in his backpack, then turning to leave.
"Hey fuckboy, whose beer is that you're stealing?" Patrick asked, making him jump.
"I don't know what you're talking about, bro." Jase said, putting his hands up.
"I literally just watched you take my beer out my fridge and stuff them into your bag." Patrick said a little louder.
"I swear-" Jase started, but Patrick cut him off.
"Just get the fuck out and if I ever fucking find out you're here again I'll have your sorry ass put in jail, got it?" Patrick said. Jase just stared blankly at him for a second, then turned and left. Patrick made a mental note to tell the doorman not to let him back in. As if right on cue, Charley came back out from her room.
"Where's Jase?" she asked, noticing his absence.
"I told him to leave." Patrick responded nonchalantly.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked in a louder voice.
"He stuffing beer in his cargo shorts and was about to skip out on you anyway!" Patrick responded, matching her level of volume.
“What the hell do his shorts have to do with anything?” she asked, a little confused.
“They’re cargo shorts, Charley. It’s also the middle of January, c’mon, you can do better."
"And what, date someone like you?" she said.
"I mean, if you're into that." Patrick added, winking, upsetting her even more.
"God, I cannot fucking stand you! Everything you do is literally just to get on my goddam nerves! What is your deal, Patrick?" she yelled at him.
"What's my deal? Mine? You're the one bringing that cock sucker into my home, to do what, fuck on my couch and get his spray tan all over the furniture that probably cost more than what he'll ever be worth?" Patrick yelled back.
"But those skanks you bring back here and fuck on the couch are okay?" she yelled, even louder. Patrick was taken aback by this one, and it was visible in his features.
"Yeah, thought so. Go fuck yourself, Patrick." she said, this time in a normal volume but dripping with hate. Patrick wasn't going to let her get away that easy though. With every comeback, they took a step closer to each other it seemed. With his quick reflexes, he was able to grab her wrist before she got out of reach. He pulled her back and then pushed her up against the fridge with such force that it tilted and the contents inside shifted. Her face was stricken with complete shock and fear. Patrick looked her face up and down before pressing his lips against hers. His left hand was still around her wrist and was pinning it against the wall of the fridge next to her head. His right was cupped against the side of her face.
Charley wasn't sure what was happening. When he slammed her against the fridge, she thought he was about to really hurt her or something, but then, he kissed her. She was surprised at first, but she gave in to him. The enticing smell of his cologne and the way his rough lips worked lured her in. She wrapped her free hand around his neck and pulled him closer. His leg was in-between both of hers, and the hands that were pinned against the fridge were still pinned, but their fingers had intertwined. Patrick didn’t ever want to pull away from her soft, full lips and her intoxicating vanilla perfume.
They kissed for a while, but neither were aware of how much time had passed. The only thing they were focused on was each other.
Charley was the one who pulled away. Their breathing was heavy, faces flushed and hearts pounding.
"Damn.” Patrick breathed, his bright blue orbs meeting her hazel ones; their foreheads were still pressed together and her hand on his heaving chest. They stood there until their breath evened out and they had time to process what had just happened.
“What the hell was that?” Charley said when she was able to find her voice.
“I’m sorry, I knew that was a bad id-“Patrick started, pulling his hand away from hers some. She immediately pulled back and held a tight grip on his hand.
“No, do- don’t apologize. Just tell me what’s going on.” She said.
“Why did you just do that,” she said.
“Can we just talk about it in the morning, we’re both tired,” he said.
“Dammit Patrick, no, there is a reason you just kissed me and you’re telling me why, tonight.” She said. Patrick sighed heavily, then rubbed the side of her thumb with his, trying to figure out what to say.
“You’re killing me, Charley.” He said with a chuckle. She gave him a look that resembled ‘hurry up and get on with it.’ He paused jut a little longer.
“Okay, you know how me and you, never really, got along,” he started, she nodded.
“and then you and I were doing okay,” he said, she nodded again.
“then it wasn’t okay?"
"Well that was for a reason. I started realizing you weren’t such a horrible person.” This got a small laugh from both of them.
“And I started to like you. Like, really really like you. And when I was watching you dance with that guy, I got angry. And jealous. And that’s why I acted the way I did, and have been, since then. Every time I’d hear you talking, or studying, or see you dressed up to go out, or just in sweat pants and a t-shirt with your glasses, I wanted to tell you how much I loved hearing it and how smart you are and you beautiful you are, but for some reason, I couldn’t.” he said, noticing how red her face was and smiling a little bit.
“I tried making myself hate you again, but, that asshole made me realize that I couldn’t.” he said, searching her face for some sort of reaction. Charley buried her face in his chest and groaned.
“Dammit Patrick,” she said, realizing she was basically doing the same thing as him.
“What, were you doing the same thing?” Patrick asked, joking.
“Yeah, actually, pretty much,” she said, laughing and looking back up at him. No one was sure what to say, because pretty much all of their questions were answered, all except one.
“So, what do we do now? Live together like this never happened, or, what?” Charley asked.
“Well, I’d like to maybe take you, on a date or something, sometime.” He said
“I’d love to, Patrick.” She said, smiling. She leaned up, kissed his cheek and then left to her room, leaving him there. Patrick just stood there, wondering what he'd just gotten himself into.

Notes

This chapter kind of goes with the song Snap Out Of It by the Arctic Monkeys
"I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake baby, snap out of it."

Hope you guys like this chapter!!