#patrick speaks

Maybe he was trying to stir his girlfriend, no scratch that, he was definitely trying to stir his girlfriend. Bringing her home for Christmas was always going to be something that Patrick was nervous about, it didn’t matter how well he knew Ema. But he also knew from watching his brother with Andie that being with the next in line could be difficult at times so letting her into the kitchens was the least he could do. Grabbing a hot cookie straight off the tray he’d shoved it into his mouth without a second thought when he heard her voice calling out to him, unable to hide his grin-- even if he was already regretting the hot cookie. “Well they taste pretty good already.” Wrapping his arms around Ema from behind as he pressed a few playful kisses to her cheek. “Taste almost as good as you.”

@xsweetxhallelujah​

There was a part of Patrick that knew that asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness, and yet it was still one of the hardest things he could do. Especially lately. It had taken him almost a month to tell his family about Tiana, worried about the comments that they would make and a lot of them would be right. He was the last person who should be raising a child by themselves. Even now he spent so much time trying to prove himself as a father and the three year old didn’t even care. She was so smiley, so perfect. Most of the time at least. It had been two nights of crying and now with a temperature, Patrick was starting to panic. Which had led to the phone call, the admittance of needing help. As soon as he saw the woman he felt like a weight had lifted a little bit. “Oh thank god. Thank you for coming.” Shuffling the crying toddler, he continued the noises trying to soothe her. “I could have called Nate or Andie or Davina but-- it feels like failing. She has a temp and I don’t know what to do.”

Years ago Patrick would have complained his way through events like this, not even bothering to put on a smile and pretend he wanted to be there. Now he was struggling with the pretend act that night, so much weighing on his mind. From what his parents were expecting to the latest fight with his sister-- even the thoughts of his brother that intruded his mind once every few months. The politician speaking barely had his attention and he apologised and excused himself, smiling slightly at someone standing at the bar. “You know, I didn’t think anyone was capable of looking so... disinterested in this sort of thing. Not your scene?”

My dearest friend, Patrick, speaks in the most captivating way. He sent me a message 'round twilight yesterday in order to share a song with me. The message read thus:

"I'm sending you this that you might either waken to it, or just attend to some obligatory office you had much rather ignore in favour of things--reveries, astral projections, elibations, visions of a horrifying sojourn to a cathedral (and the crowd carven into its cryptal wame) in the heart of some nyctropolis, &c.--by far the more allurant and deserving of one's most adoral attentions."

And the video in question: