I am slightly hungover. That is the first thing that I register when I wake up, mainly because it kills. The second is that Patrick is not in bed.

Last night, after Pete posted, we all turned off our phones and played drinking games. We'd take it in turns to think of a song, and then say the last line of the song. The next person had to name the song and the name of the artist. If they got it wrong or were unable to answer within the time limit, which was ten seconds, they'd have to take a shot. The only problem was, the game lent itself to certain abuses, mainly because Pete was counting, and it appears that Pete's seconds are a lot faster than anyone else's, so we ended up taking a shot virtually every time.

I reach across the bed, hoping to find Patrick's body lying next to mine, but I have no such luck. Oh god. I sit bolt upright, despite the fact that my head is killing me right now, and look around. Thank god it's not a work day, because if it was, I wouldn't be able to function at all. As it is, I can barely register anything right. I think I drank more than I meant to last night.

He's not anywhere in the bedroom, that's for sure. I swing my legs out of bed, ignoring the wave of nausea that it ensues, and practically run into the main room. Oh, thank god, he's in there, sitting at the kitchen counter with his headphones in, writing. I stand there for a moment, almost ridiculously relieved, and then he notices me and pulls up his headphones.

"Oh, hey babe. Did I wake you up?"

I shake my head, panting slightly. "You are so... I thought you were in trouble or something!"

He sees how anguished I am and comes over and wraps his arms around me. "It's okay, baby. I'm okay. You don't need to worry."

"But I do," whisper, tears starting to stream down my face. "I worry so much about you."

He gives me a sad smile. "I'm all right. I promise."

I nod, wiping my eyes. "I know. I just..."

"I'm okay. I'm not about to go and kill myself, because there are two things stopping me doing that: you, and my music. And nothing can ever take those away fro me. Ever."

My face falls. Is that all? Is that literally all that is stopping him killing himself right now?

He senses this, and kisses me. "I love you more than anything else. You are beautiful, and kind, and funny, and just wonderful. I could never ask for anything else."

He is so sweet and lovely that I sigh and give him a wobbly smile. "I love you too, because you are cute and funny and sweet and you have a beautiful voice that I could listen to for hours, but most of all because you are Patrick Martin Stump and you are the man I have fallen for."

Patrick reaches out and gently strokes a lock of my hair. "You really mean that?"

I nod. "Every word."

"I am so glad that I had the courage to talk to you. If I hadn't, I don't think I'd still be here. Everyday, I used to see you about. I used to think: oh god, she's so beautiful I wish she was mine, but I'd always tell myself that I wasn't good enough for you."

I give him a cheeky grin, and then trace my hand down his body. When I hit that spot, he lets out a little sigh and his eyes close in pleasure. "I guess you were wrong there," I whisper.

"You're so hot," he breathes. I flick my eyebrows upwards, and he nods. So we do that, and then when we're done, I sit on his lap on the sofa while he strokes my hair.

"I like it when you do that," I say, truthfully.

"Do you, now?" I nod, and so he kisses my neck and then puts his hand on my chest. I smack it away.

"Naughty Patrick. Fun time is over, ok? Behave yourself now." He nods and looks at the ground like a little boy who's been told off. I laugh.

"You are so cute." He groans.

"Why does this always come back to how cute I am?"

"Just commenting. Anyway, it's kind of funny, really. I used to dream of what Fall Out Boy looked like, and I thought that their lead singer would be this hardcore punk dude who wore eyeliner and had loads of tattoos, and instead I get a tiny man in a fedora."

"Hey!" he says. "I am not that small."

"Not against the rest of the band, but that's just because they're all kind of short so you just cancel each other out."

He raises an eyebrow. "Do you want to be my girlfriend or not?"

"Ok, ok, I'll shut up now. Seriously, though, I'm used to going on tiptoe when I kiss guys, so it's actually a relief to find someone who's kind of my height. It means there's less pressure for me to wear heels."

Patrick folds his arms. "If you keep talking, you won't be getting a kiss, you'll be getting my fist in your face."

"Charming."

"Just returning the favour."

"Oh, you're so nice to me, aren't you?"

"This is my way of flirting. Do you like it?" He grins.

"If this is you flirting, then you need to get out more."

"I'm an agoraphobic; you can't really say that."

I sigh. "Yeah, you're right. Meanie."

Patrick bursts out laughing. "How old are we? Like, four or something?"

"You tell me."

"Really, I can't be bothered. However. Today, the guys are coming over again for another practice, so I expect you to be out of your pyjamas within the next hour or you will have to face the unpleasantness of wearing nearly nothing in front of your favourite band."

I pout. "Fine," I mutter. "I'll change."

"Good girl." I roll my eyes at him, and then go into the bathroom, have a quick shower, and then put on a Twenty One Pilots T-shirt and black leggings. I do my makeup as quickly as possible, do my hair, and I emerge half an hour after Patrick told me to change. He smiles when he sees me and puts aside the song he's working on.

"You look very nice today," he comments.

"Thanks."

"By the way, I wanted to apologise for earlier. I didn't mean to scare you, I just woke up and then part of a song just came to me like that" - he snaps his fingers - " and I couldn't let the muse just go. I needed to work on it before I lost it. You get me?"

I nod. "It's ok. I overreacted, I think."

"Well, I'd rather you overreacted than not bother at all. It shows that you care. And that's a good thing, because you're a caring person."

I smile at him. "Really?"

Patrick nods. "Lydia, you are one of the best people I know. Don't ever forget that." 

"I'm hardly..." I start, but then he cuts me off.

"No, you are. And I love you."

This guy never stops surprising me with his sweetness. I think that's what I like most about him.