the rough hand holding your head up was unyielding. painful and mean, wanting violence. patrick laughed at your wincing face, his own contorting into amusement. "what a freak," he laughed, his eyes fixed on your face. you were new in town. a rumor had gotten out pretty quick about your sexuality, and the bowers gang was practically having a field day with the information.

henry had already had his little turn with you, leaving you with a gushing upper lip and a bruised rib or two. victor and belch weren't really in, bored out of their mind once you had stopped trying to really fight. by the time patrick was pulling your head out, the boys had wandered off with a bored huff to find their next victim. but patrick? he was still happy to taunt and tease.

there was someone little bug in his brain that kept him near, the boredom had long since seeped into his brain, but you were so.. captivating? so pure and innocently untouched from this god awful town. although he lacked the thought that you were anything like him, real, he amused the thought that you were different, too.

"are ya gonna cry?" he asked, his lower lip jutting out in a mock pout. after a moment, his fingers recoiled from your hair and the tips of his lips upturned in a grin. "don't be a fuckin' cry baby.." he taunted.