Patrick Stump x Reader - Beach

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Word
count: 1 755
A/N:
Not really anxiety, sorry

The sound of the crashing waves mixed with the howling of wind and the screams of sea gulls. You were wrapped into a warm jacket, protected from the wind. Gray clouds chased over the colorless sky and the sun only rarely shone down on the empty beach. Many people stayed away from the beach when the weather was as cold and dull as today. You used the opportunity to get some time away from the crowd. Sitting on one of the rocks that lined the shore, listening to the sound of nature was one of your favorite things to do when the world was too noisy. Out here no one showed up, especially not on days like this one. You had no phone reception, no internet, no chance at getting any messages that stressed you out.

Of course you used social media and chats like everyone else, but from time to time you felt pressured and stressed by the perfect lives displayed on these platforms by your friends. It seemed to you as if everyone was more sportive, more beautiful, cleverer, wittier and just generally more attractive and interesting than you. Usually it did not get to you, but sometimes it did and you wondered how the hell you were ever going to make it in this world in which only the perfect ones seemed to survive. Getting away from all that, away from the internet, magazines, newspapers, radios and even books, calmed you down and the murmur of the waves lulled your thoughts in, allowed you to drown in the sound of wind and water instead of your own mind.

The clouds broke apart and a beam of sunlight wandered over the rugged waves, reflecting in thousand tiny stars, blinding you. You squeezed your eyes and watched the light dance over the water until another cloud closed the gap and the sunlight disappeared.

In the distance a young man stepped past the tree line and onto the sand. His eyes searched the beach until they spotted you sitting on the rock and he slowly started making his way over.

You heard the approaching steps just in time and turned around to be met with the sight of your friend Patrick. His blue eyes sparkled when he looked up at you, and his red-blond hair was disheveled by the wind since he was not wearing his hat as usual. Wordlessly he climbed onto the rock next to you, sitting so close that your shoulders were touching. He was probably the only person in the world you were able to stand while being in this mood you were in. Patrick was like your personal guardian angel, always there for you, ready to calm you down or cheer you up. But he knew that sometimes cheering up was not what you needed, so instead of telling you not to cry, he told you let it all out, to scream and be angry at the world, and afterwards, when you sunk to your knees in exhaustion, he cradled your head against his chest and whispered words of encouragement into your ears.

You leant back until you were lying on the surprisingly warm stone. Your back was a little bent due to the rock's form, but it felt like a soft stretch and you liked it. You stared up into the blues and grays and whites of the sky. If someone would have asked you what Patrick was to you, you most likely would have answered 'A friend', but in reality he was so much more than that. He knew all your secrets and you knew all of his. You had seen each other in your happiest moments, and in your saddest, in the most embarrassing moments and in the funniest. When Patrick had kissed you for the first time, you had just gone along with it. It had been soft and full of life and exactly what you needed. It made you believe that maybe one day someone could accept you for who you were. The second time you kissed, it had been initialized by you. Patrick had started to get a slight panic attack in the break before he had to do a presentation in Spanish. He was really good at Spanish, yet something led him to believe he could not do it. You still remembered how his eyes had flickered left and right, his gaze never fixing anywhere. His breath had been fast and uneven and little beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Following a sudden impulse, you had leant forward, pressing your lips against his, kissing him softly but urgently until you could feel him calm down under your touch. It had probably looked a little weird, both of you just standing in the middle of the corridor, kissing but otherwise not touching each other. Neither you nor Patrick had cared.

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