"I know they'll be coming to find me soon, but I fear I'm getting used to.. being held by you,"

It's been two weeks since Andy and I seemingly 'disappeared.' When Brendon is out, Patrick unties me and lets Andy and I talk and do what we won't, but he refuses to untie Andy. I don't blame him, honestly.

"Patrick!" I yell to him, turning the volume up. He comes running in with his glasses astray, his shirt unbuttoned, and panting.

"What? What? Who's dying?" He asks, clearly out of breath. As he calms down and sits on the other side of me, I lie my head on his shoulder.

Everything's like this lately. I don't go anywhere or do anything without Patrick by my side, and I kind of love it.

I point at the TV. A new One Direction (ha, so I was right) album just dropped, and apparently, Louis wrote a song about a disorder called Stockholm Syndrome.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not an idiot. I know it has something to do with being kidnapped and falling in love, but that's about it. That's stupid.

I'd leave right now if I had the chance. I most definitely wouldn't have to think twice. Or would I? I meet Patrick's eyes, and that answers my question. I couldn't just leave him here. Not with Brendon.

"Stockholm Syndrome is when you're being held hostage and you feel sympathy and have feelings for your captor," Andy explains, interrupting our little eye conversation thing. I shake my head in an attempt to get the thoughts out. "Like you two," Andy gestures with his head since that's all he can move.

"Aw, fuck you, man. I'd leave if I could," I say, glaring at him. Patrick freezes next to me. "Patrick.." He stands up and puts on a fake smile.

"It's okay, Pete. It's totally fine. You two have your fun trying to find a way to escape. Sing it as loud as you can. I don't give a fuck," Patrick abruptly leaves the room, and I let out a loud sigh.

I didn't mean it like that. I meant that I'd leave and take Patrick with me if I could. I like Patrick. He's.. nice.

"Go fix it, you dumbass," Andy commands, jutting his head towards Patrick's room. I nod and get up, going to find Patrick.

He's on the bed with his head in his hands when I sit next to him. As I rub his back, he leans up with tears in his eyes. "You think I'm disgusting. You hate me, and you want to leave. You know what, Pete? Leave. I'm giving you the chance right here, right now," I pull him into a hug. Not only would Brendon kill him, Patrick would hate me if I left.

"I'm not leaving, you idiot," He hugs me back before breaking into full-on sobs.

"I'm sorry. I just never thought a guy like you would ever go for a guy like me and that I'd have to do something as outrageous as this to get you to actually talk to and notice me," He explains when he calms down.

"Patrick, okay, you can, like, punch me after this, but I have to do it once," I lean in and kiss him. It's perfect. I feel the fireworks. I don't care how cliché any of this is. I felt fireworks.

When we pull away, he says, "You don't want me, Pete. I'm not good for you," I lean in and kiss him again, just to shut him up, really.

"Of course I want you, Patrick. You're all I want, alright? There's no one else. I'm pretty positive you're my soulmate," I kiss him yet again. Why didn't I do this earlier?

"Whoa, holy shit!" Andy yells when he sees us, falling backwards. Patrick and I pull away and immediately laugh so hard that I'm almost crying. "So funny. Laugh it up. Now help me," Andy says, trying to crawl towards us.

I roll my eyes and help him while Patrick tries to contain his laughter. As I help Andy up, he glares at Patrick and tries to kick me. "Good try, Andrew," I pat his head.

"I miss Joe," He says abruptly, sitting down next to Patrick. "It's been two weeks since I've seen or talked to him,"

"It's going to be okay, bud," Patrick tries to comfort him, putting his hand on Andy's shoulder. Andy immediately jumps away from him, almost falling off of the bed.

"Don't touch me, you fucking weirdo. How is it going to be okay? How the fuck am I supposed to go back to living my life after this shit? Will I even still be alive?" Andy spits, standing up.

He's working on the ties that are holding his hands together, but to no avail, they won't break. "Andy," I try.

He stops long enough to glare and say, "You're no better, traitor. Guess Lou was right, huh?" He sneers before continuing down the hall. I hear a door shut. It's probably the room he and I were sharing.

I look over to Patrick. He's back to the way he was when I first came in. Head in hands, breathing hard, tears threatening to fall. I lift his chin to make him meet my eyes. I kiss him.

I like that. I can kiss him now. I'm allowed to do that.

"Pete, you should go. You and Andy don't want to be here. Take him home to Joe. I feel like he hates me more than anything," He sighs when we pull away, stroking my cheek.

"I'm not leaving you," I lean into his touch. He drops his hand and his head, like he knew something like this was going to happen.

"Pete," He tries again, but I just shake my head. How can I let him know that I'm not leaving? That I refuse to leave even when he's giving me the chance?

"Patrick, I just. Let me do this, alright?" I kiss him rougher and push him back, straddling his waist. His eyes widen aty newfound confidence, but he takes it in quickly as he leans up to capture my lips.

"You're sure?" He asks, hands finding my ass and squeezing hard enough to leave imprints.

"Oh hell yes," I say before leaning down and kissing him, unbuttoning his shirt.

This is most definitely what I want. I want it every day from now on.