Switchblades and Infidelity [DISCONTINUED]

three

Patrick studies the wooden door before him, then glances at his phone to make sure that he has the right address. He grips the bottle of tequila in his other hand, his nerves almost getting the best of him. He can feel his hands grow clammy. A part of him wishes for the sweat to seep into the bottle so he has a reason to leave their house and never come back. He starts to second-guess that idea, because he would like to see Nia again. Also, that Ricky guy wasn't half bad.

Patrick blows a long sigh as if his anxiety was swelling smoke in his lungs, and his thoughts were the cigarette. He pockets his phone and manages to rap his knuckle on the closed portal. The sound of shuffling feet on the other end enter, then the door swings open. Nia stands at the door fame, smiling up at Patrick. Patrick returns the smile weakly.

"You're here!" Nia cheers, her smile growing into a grin.
"I brought an extra ingredient," Patrick says as he lifts the full glass bottle. "Just in case you guys didn't have enough."
"Thank you," the violet-eyed woman beams. She takes the item as she leads Patrick inside, guiding him to the kitchen where Ricky sits at the counter with his cup of the cocktail.

"I thought you weren't coming, my man," Ricky chuckles as he stands, ready to welcome Nia's old friend. Patrick gives a sheepish chuckle and places the tequila on the counter.

"Thought so, too," Patrick comments. He shoots a glance over at Nia as she claims her seat next to her husband.
"I couldn't just let you pass this up," Nia playfully scolds. She gathers her supplies to make Patrick a margarita, pouring the right measurements in the tin mixer.

"So, what's new? What's happened while I've been on the other side?" the woman asks as she mixes the combination. Patrick directs his gaze to the hardwood floor, a light blush claiming his face as he tucks his hands in his pockets.

"Oh, uh, nothing much," he stammers humbly. "Still that same kid who has a thing for music and... nerd stuff."
"You are not that same kid, Patrick," Nia laughs as she pours his drink in a glass. "That kid eight years ago didn't have that new hair you have! What's with that?"
"Just wanted to try something new, I guess," Patrick shrugs. "It's stupid and I'm probably going to dye it back—"
"No, keep it," Nia protests. She hands Patrick his drink with a smile, her eyes lingering on his face. The violet irises leave a warm trail along his pale skin. Patrick quickly snaps out of his trance and takes the cocktail, sipping at the beverage.

"It looks great," Nia says. "Tell me everything!"
"I guess since then, I lost a couple pounds. I haven't been keeping track anymore because I'm more focused on work, nowadays," Patrick rambles on. Nia snaps her fingers at the comment, realization claiming her face.

"That's probably why I hardly recognized you at the store today," she states. To that, Patrick chuckles. "You look great, by the way. What's work like?"
"It's, uh, fun," the blonde laughs. "It's music, so of course I'm having fun. I'm helping these kids release their first album and they're doing great. They have a lot of potential."
"Any special someones?" Ricky asks with a playful smirk. "We could probably double date one day."
"No," Patrick states with a weak laugh. His heart buoys in another body of hurt. "I've been more focused on work, anyhow."
"Well, whoever that person may be, they'd be lucky to have you," Ricky says as he claps Patrick's shoulder.
"Yeah," Nia agrees.
"I dunno," Patrick brushes off with a laugh. "Thanks, though."

Small footsteps drag from the hallway. It's enough to pull the married couple out of their social buzz, slight concern coating their faces. Patrick looks towards the footsteps, his eyes fixating on a child. The younger boy walks slowly, his brown wavy locks messy as he rubs his eye with the sleeve of his pajama shirt. In his arm, he carries a Raphael plush. The feeling of knives diving into his chest reoccur again.