Breathe Me Back To Life •Patrick Stump+Fall Out Boy•

Chapter Thirty: I'd Be Good To You

Dedication goes out to friendplz for all the hilarious comments!

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

"Hey," I hear someone whisper into my ear. I keep my eyes shut as I groggily register that it's Patrick. I ignore him and sluggishly pull the covers higher up my body. Judging by how cold it is right now, I'm guessing that it's about five or six AM. "Cole,"

"What?" I groan softly, not wanting to open my eyes. I roll over slightly just to feel my body collide into something. My eyes open slightly and that's when I realize that I just rolled into Patrick's body. He chuckles lightly, trying to keep his volume down. I sigh and let out a breath as he brushes my hair back from my forehead. "It's early." I mumble.

"Exactly," Patrick replies, pressing his lips to the tip of my nose lightly. I let my eyes crack open the slightest and I almost snort when I notice Patrick in his navy t-shirt and Batman pajama pants. "Hey, you look no better in your black shorts and Batman t-shirt." He comments, and I sigh.

"We're matching, though." I joke, rolling over onto my back and finally opening my eyes fully. "Now why is it that you woke me up at six AM?"

"I want to take you somewhere." Patrick says, sitting up and bouncing off of my bed. He almost trips over his feet, but he doesn't care because Pete is dead asleep still in bed. I sit up, and the second I do, I let out a high pitched sneeze. "You got it bad," Patrick grins. "Anyways, get on something warmer- we're going out."

"At six AM?' I sigh, sitting up as well. Patrick rolls his eyes and nods.

"Yes, at six AM."

Patrick and I are a thing now.

But so is Elisa and Derek.

Shut up, Cole.

I push myself out of bed- actually, drag is a better verb to use. I practically drag myself out of bed in sloth like movements onto the floor, where I half consciously unzip one of my Adidas duffel bags in search of some clothing. I choose a pair of black, thick leggings and take one of Pete's old hoodies. I pull the sweater over my Batman shirt and quickly go off to brush my teeth and fix my messy hair. I have no time to go ahead and re-dye my hair right now, so I pull on an old beanie over my hair. I try to force myself to admire my appearance, but it's kind of hard to. I turn away from the dreadful reflection of myself and leave the bathroom. Before I put my Vans on, I tug on some fuzzy ankle socks. By the time I'm done getting dressed, Patrick is knocking on the door.

"Now will you tell me where we're going so early?" I ask as I pull open the door. Patrick grins sheepishly and adjusts his fedora hat over his hair. I take note that he's wearing his trademark black jeans, sneakers, black shirt, and a light blue denim jacket.

"Not yet, but isn't that sweater really thin?" Patrick says, observing Pete's old sweater on me. It was thin, in fact, but it was the only sweater I could fit into of his, and I was too tired to even bother putting together a real outfit, which is the reason why Patrick was questioning the hoodie. I nod my head, recognizing that because this is Vancouver, it's raining, and it most likely is freezing cold because of how early it is. Patrick frowns slightly, pressing a hand over my forehead. "Did you take your medicine?"

"No," I respond, turning my head and jamming my hands into the sweater's pocket. Patrick sighs before taking my hand and bringing me back into my hotel room. He crosses over to the kitchen area of the room, quietly searching through the other bag Andy brought yesterday and pulling out a box of Tylenol. He opens the packaging and pulls out the pill bottle, popping the lid open and taking the seal off. He passes me a pill before going off and filling up one of those disposable beer cups with tap water.