It had been almost 4 months since Patrick made the biggest mistake of his life. getting involved with you.

Art had already warned him that he would never live the fairy tale he had created in his head with you, but he took it as a challenge. — even though Art was your brother, your blood, and he knew you better than anyone.

— "she jus' like messin' around, Patrick. she enjoys seeing the chaos!" — Art seemed to be talking to a wall.

— "pffff. bullshit. any girl gets attached to a guy with a huge dick, with all due respect." — that was all he said. he didn't even listen. he thought Art was just jealous of his little sister or something.

Until you started messing with him.

I spent the whole weekend with him, having sex, moaning his name as if he were the most divine man in the world, making him feel like he was always in control, when he wasn't.

You were even surprised by how controllable he was. He had a controlling facade, but he was submissive to you like a dog. The kind you chase away, and in the middle of the night he's crying against your door, asking to come in.

"He's just an entertainment." — you thought.

but that was just a silent way of filling a void that you couldn’t identify. or refused. In fact, you are always in control. falling in love would mean losing that.

Until he realized it.

---

The house was almost completely dark.

Only the warm light from the lamp in the corner of the room created shaky shadows on the walls. His shirt was already thrown on the floor, his body leaning on the couch, half sitting, half surrendering.

and you on top.

Your legs crossed over his, your body fitting easily, as if you had already memorized the path. Your mouth glued to his neck, hungry. Every bite seemed like a request, every kiss, an order.

Your hands sliding over his chest, up his neck, down his belly. and deeper.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to moan, but you knew exactly where to touch. but patrick wasn't just moaning with pleasure.

he was moaning with love.

and you would never notice that. or maybe you would. and you just intended not to see it.

— "fuck- you're gorgeous.." — he whispered, almost breathless. you smiled against his skin. didn't answer.

his hand went up your back, slowly, like someone afraid of losing you even with the touch, his hips almost bowed to you. he was slow, with gestures more affectionate than desperate, as usual.

and then he said it. without thinking. without measuring.

— "i love you."

you stopped.

it wasn't the first time he said it. but it was the first time you reacted like that now.

a short laugh escaped your lips. not cruel. but disbelieving. as if he had just said he believed in unicorns.

— "really?" — you murmured, still with your mouth close to his ear.

He slowly pushed you forward, making you move away a little. He looked at you.

His eyes… were desperate.

— "What? D'you think this just a body? D'you think I'm here for lust?"

You closed your eyes, still with that smile on your lips, feeling almost challenged. And he laughed. But his laugh was bitter.

— "am I just a body for you?" — he looked seriously into her eyes. the mix of pain and denial.