The Last of the Real Ones || a Patrick Stump AU ||

nine

Patrick stares down at his plate of breakfast, a hint of a smile still present on his face as he poked at the food. His mother studies him as she sips her coffee, concern furrowing her brow.

"Tricky, sweetie?" she tries. "Is something wrong?"
"Huh?" Patrick asks, snapping out of his daze. His posture straightens quickly, his blue eyes widening. The words start to process in his head, and he starts to eat his food.

"Nothing's wrong, Mom," he states as he shovels food into his mouth.
"Slow down, kiddo," she chuckles weakly. Patrick does as he is told, a bit of color rising to his full cheeks upon his realization.

"You sure?" his mother asks again. "At first, you wouldn't even eat. Now it seems like you're in a rush."
"I'm fine," Patrick chuckles. "Really. No rush, I'm just... eating."
"Are you hiding something?"
"Why would you think that?" Patrick asks. It's now his turn to furrow his brow. His mother gives a shrug, realizing that her question may be ridiculous, considering her son dedicated his existence to music. She takes another sip off her coffee; Patrick slowly starts to poke at his food again, his mind drifting off to his experience with Nia. He subconsciously starts to take smaller bites of the food on his plate.

"How are you and Nia?" his mother asks just as Patrick takes a bite of scrambled eggs. The question shocks Patrick enough to make him almost choke on the piece of food and bring him to a coughing fit.

"Do you two still talk?" she asks.
"Y-Yeah," he rasps, recovering from his spasm due to lack of air. "I-I mean, I guess."
"What do you mean you guess?" she laughs. Patrick shuts his mouth and avoids eye contact with his mother upon the new question.

"Do we have any more coffee?" Patrick asks, dodging the question.
"You're not answering the question, Patrick," she states. Patrick stands from his seat and goes to the kitchen, hoping to find some of the caffeinated drink in its pot all while avoiding the conversation.

"Did you guys have a falling out?" she asks, worry lacing with her voice. "Are you two fighting?"
"No, we're fine," he calls from the kitchen. He finds the dark matter in its habitat and he instantly pours it into an available mug. He doesn't taint it as he starts to sip the warm beverage. "We're, uh... we're more than fine, actually."

Patrick blows a sigh and returns to his mother, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Took the last of it," he informs her, raising his mug just a little to signify the fact. "Hope you don't mind."
"Patrick, you are acting so strange today," she chuckles. "Just tell me what's going on. I hardly see you because you're either out of the house for the whole day or you're locked in your room with your music. And I don't want to take any of that away from you. You're an adult now."
"It's just... not an easy thing to talk about," Patrick fumbles as he leans on the frame of the door. "It's still really new."
"Who is she?" she asks, a smile claiming her face. Patrick's own face forms into a mixture of fear and shock at the fact that his mother knew his mind was on a girl.

"It's obvious, sweetie," she says, answering the unspoken question on Patrick's lips. "Who's the lucky girl?"
"It's, uh," he stammers, his attention fixating on his coffee. "It's... Nia. But please, Mom, don't—"
"Ah! I knew you two would end up together!" she squeals. Patrick heaves another sigh, a blush claiming his face as he looks away.
"...don't freak out, but never mind that," he mumbles under his breath.
"Oh, I can't help it!" she gushes. "I've seen the way you look at her. All eleven years! With all the girls you've dated that I have met, I have never seen you look at them the way you look at Nia."

Patrick stays silent, letting his mother continue with her rant about him and Nia. He sips at his coffee as he watches.

"She's something special, Patrick. I suggest you keep her and you treat her right! Protect her, love her— everything!"
"Yeah, of course, Mom," Patrick reassures with a hint of an incredulous chuckle. "You raised me better than that!"
"I sure hope so," she states with a playful glare. "Because if I hear any bad news about you two, me and you are going to have a chat about it."
"Jesus, Mom," he groans. "This is Nia we're talking about. I would never do anything to hurt her."
"I know, sweetie," his mother smirks before taking her final sip of coffee. "But seriously, Patrick. We both know she's been through a lot. Take care of her."
"I will, Mom," Patrick reassures. "I promise."
"Good," she smiles. "Also know that you have my blessing to marry her."
"Mom!" Patrick scolds, his face growing red. His mother only laughs and gathers the dirty dishes from the table.