Logos Naki World - Chapter Five
Title: Logos Naki World - Chapter Five
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: Whatever cursing is...
Summary: Sometimes all it takes
is the worst moments in life to make you realize just exactly what you
would do for something that means the world to you.
Disclaimer: the same as the rest of the chapters...
Notes: Pete gets a glimpse of
the possible hell he will be experiencing in the near future. And
everyone wants to know just exactly what Penda means by 'play.' Also, I love everyone who's been readng and commenting this far. You guys rock my socks!
“Keep yourself in six degrees. No one ever comforts me. Why should they
bother when I'm alone and I'm so damn bored. I am so bored. I am so
bored. I am so NO NO NO NO BORED!”
“What the hell is that racket!?”
“I AM SO BORED! I AM SO BORED!”
He came downstairs and just sat down, tossed his gun to the other side of the couch and crossed his legs, looking at me.
“I am so damned… that keeps me underjoyed.”
He leaned back with a satisfied look on his face. You know, the kind
where you look like you just got laid and it was really good. He just…
stared at me.
What, did I grow two heads all of a sudden? I knew it! It was that
strawberry shampoo that girl used. It has an evil stench to it.
Speaking of stenches… I can’t smell my own. I’m too damn … dare I say
the word clean? If I had liked the smell of strawberries I’m sure I
wouldn’t mind sitting here sniffing myself to pass the time. But I
don’t, and it’s giving me a headache. I prefer to be stinky. Patrick
never cared cause he was kinda stinky too.
Hahaha. Boys are stinky. That’s why we don’t shower much. Because we
don’t stink like girls and we enjoy being sweaty, stinky and unclean.
Girls just wear perfume to hide their real stinkiness. Maybe that’s why
I don’t like girls…
“I can’t figure out how he has any interest in you.”
“Say what?” Yeah… uh what?
“I enjoyed our private get-to-know-you session.”
“What the hell did you do to Patrick?” I swear if he-
“Absolutely nothing he didn’t want.” He chuckled, “You know, he was rather sweet. You’re a waste of his time.”
“Patrick is NOT a slut!” I took a swing at him. The force actually
knocked his head back and left a stinging sensation in my hand. God
that hurt too. For good measure I glared at him… or at least tried to.
Patrick always laughed at me when I tried, so it defeated the purpose.
If I tried to kick him, well I would end up in a more uncomfortable
position.
Wait a minute… I know I’m an asshole. Let’s use that known fact.
I twisted, my arm jerking against the cuff as I lifted my hips in order
to hit the correct portion of the target. My foot connected, and I
watched in some unwritten glee as he went down. That’s right you
bastard. Never EVER talk smack about Patrick. Especially around me.
“You’re capable of hitting harder than you let on.” He touched his nose
and looked at the blood on his fingers, “Very nice, actually.” He
rubbed the blood around on his fingers, “Well done.”
“I didn’t know we were having steak…”
I think I’m going to be very sick. And not just from the stench of strawberries.
He laughed at me then, and I twisted and kicked him again. This time,
anywhere I came in contract with sounded good to me. I didn’t think
this was funny, I was seriously pissed off. I attempted to pull myself
back into a more comfortable position because I realized just now how
much the cuff was biting into my wrist. I’m sure somewhere in my
neurotic state I could just keep on jerking till it finally cut through
the skin.
He got up as if it wasn’t such a problem. Or at least he tried to hide
the wince flashing across his face as he stood back up. At least I gave
him a bloody nose. I forgot about the handcuff because he had on foot
on my stomach, and applying pressure.
“You think something that beautiful would want something like you?”
“Dude, don’t you read the interviews? He’s like, my heterosexual soulmate.”
“Interviewers lie.”
“It’s not like he’s interested in
‘I-stalk-21-year-old-boys-who-kidnaps-th
guys like you.”
He leaned closer to me. He reeked of Patrick. I wanted to gag. Not
because he has Patrick stink, it’s because maybe he was right about it.
About the whole thing. But dammit… Patrick’s been an excellent judge of
character in relationships. At least Anna seemed a good choice – I
approved of her. The thought of Patrick liking guys only shredded the
hope of me having anything with him. Anything special - or at least
beyond my sucky attitude, my neurotic-ness and our friendship. Mostly
because if our relationship failed, we probably could never be able to
fall back on being friends again. And I’m getting really introspective
on myself… I promise to shut down and restart later.
I think he snort-laughed at me. He’s probably the kind of guy who
snores really loud at night. The kind that could shake the foundation.
“I can put up with your insults and your physical assaults because they
amuse me.” He paused and pulled back, the foot still on my stomach.
“But allow me to return the favor.”
Fist meet my face. Head meet the wall.
BRING. IT. ON! WE’LL THROW DOWN!
Oh…ow.
He pulled back because he must have heard the sound echo down here. The
foot was off my stomach and he had moved back to the couch. Pressure
relief never felt so good.
“No bruises!”
Once again that crazy little girl came running down the stairs. I’m
just waiting for the one time she’s gonna slip and fall down them… or
just jump over the railing and crush my salad or something. I don’t
think I can just… use a stick and tape to um... fix it either.
She grabbed my hand and held it close to her cheek, “I love him SO much! Don’t hurt him!”
She just looked my hand over, ran up and back down with ice and a wet
washcloth. I fought the urge to lift a brow and twitch my lip. The guy
hit me pretty hard. I’m sure I’m going to bruise just a little bit. I
know we say we’re robots… but it’s just a cover up really. It’s the
only way to keep the girls away.
“Penda. Be useful.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and just put the ice on my face after
she used the washcloth. Really, I can take care of myself. “Am. I take
care of all my dolls with extra love and care!”
I hate to break it to her, but I’m not a doll. I’m Pete. Though there
are those times I really wish I was a robot. Maybe then I wouldn’t be
having the problems I am having right now.
“Penda....” Well I think he just fell into what most Americans call a
‘bad mood.’ “Be a good girl and do what you normally do. We’ll be
having company in a while. You’ll get to play.”
She stopped what she was doing and whirled around. I can only imagine the look on her face. “Play? I get to play with him!? REALLY!?” She squealed, and left me alone to jump up and down. “Should I serve the juice or the special Earl Tea?”
“Both should be fine.”
Does anyone else besides me find this rather freaky? This makes me proud to be an American despite how much I love Europeans.
“YAY!” She turned around to give me a gleeful hug before rushing back
up the stairs. I think she was jumping upstairs, cause it felt like the
foundation was shaking. Or maybe I’m just overreacting…
When the door upstairs opened and slammed shut, he pulled out a pair of
gloves and slipped them on. Geez, doesn’t he know that gloves are out
in ’05?
“While Penda’s out. I’m going to enjoy myself.”
“That’s not a figure of ‘you’re going to rape me’ is it?”
“Rape isn’t idealistic.” He learned toward me, “I find you utterly distasteful.”
“Should I be taking that as a compliment? Cause I know I’m a disappointment to everyone.”
“Penda just adores your screaming.” He moved to the other side, the
area by the bar, “I wonder what they’ll sound like when I get started.”
I could vaguely see him picking some things up.
“They might be coming from the back of my throat.”
“I was hoping for something high-pitched and loud.”
“You lost me, man.”
He came back, setting several things down. Great… Doesn’t he know that
torture is also out in ’05? He needs that list. I’m sure he’s probably
wearing women’s underwear too.
A needle? Pffft. I’ve got a lot of tattoos, it shouldn’t phase me in
the least anymore. Oh look one of those electric zapper thingies…
Tasers! That’s what they’re called! Haha, I remember zapping my arm
with one of them. I was a total girl back then. I think if I look hard
enough I might be able to see where it left the marks. And I already
mentioned the gun earlier, but I don’t think he’ll shoot me unless he’s
uh… desperate. Do I look like a sheep?
Baaaa!
You can find the previous chapters here:
Chapter Four B
Chapter Four A
Chapter Three
Chapter Two
Chapter One
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: Whatever cursing is...
Summary: Sometimes all it takes
is the worst moments in life to make you realize just exactly what you
would do for something that means the world to you.
Disclaimer: the same as the rest of the chapters...
Notes: Pete gets a glimpse of
the possible hell he will be experiencing in the near future. And
everyone wants to know just exactly what Penda means by 'play.' Also, I love everyone who's been readng and commenting this far. You guys rock my socks!
“Keep yourself in six degrees. No one ever comforts me. Why should they
bother when I'm alone and I'm so damn bored. I am so bored. I am so
bored. I am so NO NO NO NO BORED!”
“What the hell is that racket!?”
“I AM SO BORED! I AM SO BORED!”
He came downstairs and just sat down, tossed his gun to the other side of the couch and crossed his legs, looking at me.
“I am so damned… that keeps me underjoyed.”
He leaned back with a satisfied look on his face. You know, the kind
where you look like you just got laid and it was really good. He just…
stared at me.
What, did I grow two heads all of a sudden? I knew it! It was that
strawberry shampoo that girl used. It has an evil stench to it.
Speaking of stenches… I can’t smell my own. I’m too damn … dare I say
the word clean? If I had liked the smell of strawberries I’m sure I
wouldn’t mind sitting here sniffing myself to pass the time. But I
don’t, and it’s giving me a headache. I prefer to be stinky. Patrick
never cared cause he was kinda stinky too.
Hahaha. Boys are stinky. That’s why we don’t shower much. Because we
don’t stink like girls and we enjoy being sweaty, stinky and unclean.
Girls just wear perfume to hide their real stinkiness. Maybe that’s why
I don’t like girls…
“I can’t figure out how he has any interest in you.”
“Say what?” Yeah… uh what?
“I enjoyed our private get-to-know-you session.”
“What the hell did you do to Patrick?” I swear if he-
“Absolutely nothing he didn’t want.” He chuckled, “You know, he was rather sweet. You’re a waste of his time.”
“Patrick is NOT a slut!” I took a swing at him. The force actually
knocked his head back and left a stinging sensation in my hand. God
that hurt too. For good measure I glared at him… or at least tried to.
Patrick always laughed at me when I tried, so it defeated the purpose.
If I tried to kick him, well I would end up in a more uncomfortable
position.
Wait a minute… I know I’m an asshole. Let’s use that known fact.
I twisted, my arm jerking against the cuff as I lifted my hips in order
to hit the correct portion of the target. My foot connected, and I
watched in some unwritten glee as he went down. That’s right you
bastard. Never EVER talk smack about Patrick. Especially around me.
“You’re capable of hitting harder than you let on.” He touched his nose
and looked at the blood on his fingers, “Very nice, actually.” He
rubbed the blood around on his fingers, “Well done.”
“I didn’t know we were having steak…”
I think I’m going to be very sick. And not just from the stench of strawberries.
He laughed at me then, and I twisted and kicked him again. This time,
anywhere I came in contract with sounded good to me. I didn’t think
this was funny, I was seriously pissed off. I attempted to pull myself
back into a more comfortable position because I realized just now how
much the cuff was biting into my wrist. I’m sure somewhere in my
neurotic state I could just keep on jerking till it finally cut through
the skin.
He got up as if it wasn’t such a problem. Or at least he tried to hide
the wince flashing across his face as he stood back up. At least I gave
him a bloody nose. I forgot about the handcuff because he had on foot
on my stomach, and applying pressure.
“You think something that beautiful would want something like you?”
“Dude, don’t you read the interviews? He’s like, my heterosexual soulmate.”
“Interviewers lie.”
“It’s not like he’s interested in
‘I-stalk-21-year-old-boys-who-kidnaps-th
guys like you.”
He leaned closer to me. He reeked of Patrick. I wanted to gag. Not
because he has Patrick stink, it’s because maybe he was right about it.
About the whole thing. But dammit… Patrick’s been an excellent judge of
character in relationships. At least Anna seemed a good choice – I
approved of her. The thought of Patrick liking guys only shredded the
hope of me having anything with him. Anything special - or at least
beyond my sucky attitude, my neurotic-ness and our friendship. Mostly
because if our relationship failed, we probably could never be able to
fall back on being friends again. And I’m getting really introspective
on myself… I promise to shut down and restart later.
I think he snort-laughed at me. He’s probably the kind of guy who
snores really loud at night. The kind that could shake the foundation.
“I can put up with your insults and your physical assaults because they
amuse me.” He paused and pulled back, the foot still on my stomach.
“But allow me to return the favor.”
Fist meet my face. Head meet the wall.
BRING. IT. ON! WE’LL THROW DOWN!
Oh…ow.
He pulled back because he must have heard the sound echo down here. The
foot was off my stomach and he had moved back to the couch. Pressure
relief never felt so good.
“No bruises!”
Once again that crazy little girl came running down the stairs. I’m
just waiting for the one time she’s gonna slip and fall down them… or
just jump over the railing and crush my salad or something. I don’t
think I can just… use a stick and tape to um... fix it either.
She grabbed my hand and held it close to her cheek, “I love him SO much! Don’t hurt him!”
She just looked my hand over, ran up and back down with ice and a wet
washcloth. I fought the urge to lift a brow and twitch my lip. The guy
hit me pretty hard. I’m sure I’m going to bruise just a little bit. I
know we say we’re robots… but it’s just a cover up really. It’s the
only way to keep the girls away.
“Penda. Be useful.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and just put the ice on my face after
she used the washcloth. Really, I can take care of myself. “Am. I take
care of all my dolls with extra love and care!”
I hate to break it to her, but I’m not a doll. I’m Pete. Though there
are those times I really wish I was a robot. Maybe then I wouldn’t be
having the problems I am having right now.
“Penda....” Well I think he just fell into what most Americans call a
‘bad mood.’ “Be a good girl and do what you normally do. We’ll be
having company in a while. You’ll get to play.”
She stopped what she was doing and whirled around. I can only imagine the look on her face. “Play? I get to play with him!? REALLY!?” She squealed, and left me alone to jump up and down. “Should I serve the juice or the special Earl Tea?”
“Both should be fine.”
Does anyone else besides me find this rather freaky? This makes me proud to be an American despite how much I love Europeans.
“YAY!” She turned around to give me a gleeful hug before rushing back
up the stairs. I think she was jumping upstairs, cause it felt like the
foundation was shaking. Or maybe I’m just overreacting…
When the door upstairs opened and slammed shut, he pulled out a pair of
gloves and slipped them on. Geez, doesn’t he know that gloves are out
in ’05?
“While Penda’s out. I’m going to enjoy myself.”
“That’s not a figure of ‘you’re going to rape me’ is it?”
“Rape isn’t idealistic.” He learned toward me, “I find you utterly distasteful.”
“Should I be taking that as a compliment? Cause I know I’m a disappointment to everyone.”
“Penda just adores your screaming.” He moved to the other side, the
area by the bar, “I wonder what they’ll sound like when I get started.”
I could vaguely see him picking some things up.
“They might be coming from the back of my throat.”
“I was hoping for something high-pitched and loud.”
“You lost me, man.”
He came back, setting several things down. Great… Doesn’t he know that
torture is also out in ’05? He needs that list. I’m sure he’s probably
wearing women’s underwear too.
A needle? Pffft. I’ve got a lot of tattoos, it shouldn’t phase me in
the least anymore. Oh look one of those electric zapper thingies…
Tasers! That’s what they’re called! Haha, I remember zapping my arm
with one of them. I was a total girl back then. I think if I look hard
enough I might be able to see where it left the marks. And I already
mentioned the gun earlier, but I don’t think he’ll shoot me unless he’s
uh… desperate. Do I look like a sheep?
Baaaa!
You can find the previous chapters here:
Chapter Four B
Chapter Four A
Chapter Three
Chapter Two
Chapter One