"I love you."

Those are the words that had left your mouth just twenty minutes ago. Granted, Patrick was doing some very magical things to you at the time, but you can't blame the slip-up on just that. Yeah... this is awkward as fuck.

The silence after it all is the worst part. He hadn't acknowledged it at the time, and if it weren't for the fact he was uncharacteristically quiet afterwards instead of bragging about his abilities like he usually did, you'd be convinced he hadn't heard you at all You didn't mean to say it; sure, it was true, but it was absolutely not meant to be revealed like that. Or at all, really.

This was strictly a casual thing, after all. Ugh, you've royally messed this up for the both of you.

You're glad it's semi-dark in your dorm room so that he can't see the expression of absolute mortification that's clung to your face since he rolled off of you. Not that his face is doing much better, mind you; staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling. Does he let you down easy? "Thanks, but no thanks, babe." It's not that he doesn't like you, of course. You're great... which is what scares him. Art's always been the lover boy of the two; Patrick is entirely sure how to navigate this new territory with you.

"Bet you tell that to every guy you have in here." Patrick's voice cuts through the silence after an agonisingly long moment. Right. An attempt at levity. You're almost grateful for it.

"It's my go-to pick up line," you manage to reply.

He huffs in an attempt at a laugh, but the tension in the air is palpable. You're both desperately trying to keep it light, to not say a word about the enormous elephant in the room. You're almost tempted to tell him you take it back, that it was just some bullshit said in the heat of the moment that you didn't mean. He continues staring up at the ceiling, his eyes avoiding yours entirely like he's trying to solve some complicated equation in the swirling patterns of the paint.

But all you get in reply is a: "I should probably go. Early flight."