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

Chapter Fifty Seven: Better Off As Lovers

||Cole Wentz|| First Person||

Pete's arm is slung over my shoulder, pulling me into his side tightly and protectively. My knees and thighs are pressed together tightly as I squeeze my hands together. My leg bounces nervously over and over again as I watch the two police officers walk away from us.

I did it.

I did it.

I finally did it. I told the police everything, filing my report of sexual assault, harassment, physical assault, and attempted murder. I'm pretty sure that there's more to add to that list of technical terms, but one thing is certain.

Derek Skinner is a criminal, and he's going to jail.

And I can finally close my eyes and take a deep breath, knowing that he's in police custody and he's never going to hurt me again. So that's what I do. I let my eyelids flutter shut and I inhale slowly, feeling Pete's tan hand squeeze my shoulder supportively. He opens his mouth while pulling me into his side, a grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You are officially safe, and I mean it."

"God, I'm just glad that's over with." I smile, trying to forget that a court date was set in November for when we get back to Chicago. Until then, Derek would be in custody. God, I'm so relieved.

"Well, to celebrate, let's go grab something to eat and head back to the hotel?" Pete suggests, and I jump up to my feet, nodding my bead quickly. He laughs at my eager persona, standing up and throwing his arm over my shoulder, leading us in an easy stride to the front door, allowing us to finally leave the police station we were cramped in for what felt like days but was really only hours. Mom, Dad, and Mrs. Stump would be staying for the remainder of the tour for some reason- something about them wanting to watch the final two shows tonight and in a few days. Mom keeps asking me about the whole Canada's Wonderland thing, what I plan to do, etc. etc. I don't know, everyone seems to know something that I don't. I lean my head on Pete as we walk down the Toronto street, the sun basking down and giving my skin more of a burn than a tan. It's so weird that I have such pale skin in comparison to my brother's tan skin.

"Okay, concert not until about eight o'clock... Baskin Robbins?" He smirks at me, and my eyes widen. I nod my head rapidly, regretting it immediately when the back of my head stings with brutal pain. My hand flys up to behind my ear, holding the healing wound underneath my hair and extensions. Pete laughs lightly before we begin to navigate Toronto, Ontario. We were talking about how there was a Hot Topic somewhere in Scarborough Town Centre(the jeans, bro, the jeans), a giant mall in a different region of the city, and also how we should really go to the HarbourFront Centre, and also talking about how we needed to go to the CN Tower, the second tallest building in the world after Dubai built a slightly taller building. Pete and I eventually have to put on sunglasses so we could actually see the people in front of us(especially after Pete bumped into a buff looking man who put Marcus to shame). Eventually, we make it to the ice cream shop, deciding on flavours and such. I choose to get a milkshake made from chocolate chip cookie dough while Pete goes for the classic French Vanilla ice cream in milkshake form. Pete pays for the medium size, which is kind of big, somewhere around ten bucks. I offer to pay, but he shakes his head and refuses. He gets a copy of the receipt and crunches it up, stuffing it into his pocket before grabbing the two straws the worker passes us. We smile goodbye to the cashier, and Pete gives me a straw. I rip the paper with my teeth, pulling the straw out of its packaging and sticking it into my milkshake. I stuff the wrapper into my pocket, deciding that I'd throw it away another time.

"So, what do you wanna do?" He asks me, taking a rather large gulp of his milkshake. He makes a pleased face before immediately frowning and holding a hand to his forehead. "Brain freeze!" He winces, while I'm full out laughing.