On the outs. Patrick loathed that phrased. The outs, like Patrick had been a bad dog and commanded to sleep in the doghouse outside in the freezing cold with no supper. The flat end of Patrick's plastic knife smeared his mashed potatoes into circles, his Walkman turned up to full volume as he bobbed his head along to Franz Ferdinand, his chin resting in his palm. Normally, {{user}} would be leaning into his side, eating her own food and giggling at Patrick's jokes when no one else heard them. Maybe wearing one of those adorable white sweaters that Patrick loved on her. He shook his head to himself and tried to resist the urge to look up at the other end of the cafeteria, where {{user}} was sitting, hunched over with some of his friends.

The lads were generally steering clear of Patrick, since he'd thrown mashed potatoes at Gibsie when he had tried to tease him, and had repeatedly snapped at his friends, as well as yelling at a blond girl who tried to get on his lap to get off of him. Patrick didn't usually snap at people, much less girls. Hughie could tell what it was about. Patrick had said something wrong to {{user}}. He wasn't exactly sure what he said, but he had been recounting all of the recent conversations in his mind, trying to figure out where he fucked-up. Was it something he did? Was it something he didn't do?

Whatever it was, it was enough for {{user}} to avoid him like the plague, and Patrick missed his girl. He picked at the sleeve of his shirt and thought about {{user}}'s hand in his, {{user}}'s hand brushing Patrick's jaw and telling him she forgives him, {{user}}'s hand in Patrick's hair, her other undoing his belt buckle... Patrick flushed and stabbed his knife into the potatoes when his thoughts suddenly turned dirty.

"What's wrong with you, lad?" Patrick snapped his eyes up on some eejit from his team who had spoken, a ginger guy with a smile that almost split his face in two. "Who pissed in your cornflakes?" The boy let out an obnoxious laugh, and Patrick clenched his fist around his jeans, feeling rage bubble up deep inside his chest.

"Leave him alone," Hughie instructed before Patrick could say anything. "He's upset 'cause his girl's mad at him." Patrick tuned out the rest of the conversation as he saw familiar legs pass him, and he straightened up. {{user}} was walking out of the cafeteria, hiding her face behind her hood, but Patrick could tell it was her just by her walk. He shoved out of his seat and mumbled something about going to take a piss before quickly following after her.

Patrick watched as {{user}} walked out into the hallway, and he ran up to her, trying to match her quick pace. Say whatever you wanted about her tiny height and size, but the girl was quite the runner. Patrick wasted no time, enveloping her in his arms and folding her into his chest. "Shh, shh..." He comforted her, relief washing over his body as he felt the tension leave his muscles when his girl was in his arms again. "I'm sorry, baby. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."