[C] As You Wish

[Shadowstar [LovesMaydayParade]]

Title: As You Wish
Author: Shadowstar [LovesMaydayParade]
Pairing: It's pretty obvious
Summary: I don't want to give it away
Editor: I just do it myself.
Cover: Nope. Might make one later

Author's Notes: I luff Patrick. Shawn's my favv, but you wanna know what? I FELT like writing a story about Pat. This is sort of an AU with my fanfic character Jamie. (the other fanfic is on my own archive site, since I can't post it on here due to cursing) I have her as Shawn's sister on a RP site I own, so I decided to just write a fanfic out of boredom. And this is what happened. It's really mushy and sort of sweet, but hey, I was bored. Tell me whatcha think.

And for those that are totally clueless as to who Shawn and Patrick are - they're Shawn Milke and Patrick Thompson of Alesana. And the Dennis mentioned very briefly near the end is Dennis Lee. Of Alesana.

As You Wish

Patrick Thompson.

Understand that I would kill for you

Understand that I would die for you.

And please, for gods sakes.

Can't you just understand that I love you?

I sighed and scratched out those words, which I had written in what was going to be an attempt to start a diary. I'd never been the type to consult a book for comfort, it couldn't speak back to you, couldn't give you answers to your questions. But in my case, this was my only option. And I was discarding it. I inked over the words until they were unrecognizable, then tossed the barely used journal in the wire basket beside my bed. What was the use? I wouldn't change anything by scratching a few pathetic words onto paper.

"Jamie! Jay! Come and check this out!"

His voice made my heart flutter, but it also sent stabs of pain into it like a million tiny arrows. The subtle conflict inside of me was invisible as I walked out of the room, flipping my black hair from my eyes.

"What's up, Peezee?"

I leaned against the wall and raised my eyebrows at him expectantly, he had his guitar with him. Probably showing me one of his new ideas for a song, because apparently I had a ruthless opinion. It was true - if I thought something sucked, I would tell him. But only because I didn't want him to get hurt. I gave my heart to him, and he didn't even realize it.

As I had expected, he started playing. It was beautiful, as most of his stuff was. Some would argue that guitar couldn't exactly be beautiful, but I was enough of a music obsessionist that it could to me.

"What do you think? Is it good?"

"It's brilliant, Pat! The ending is a really nice touch. Is there any meaning to it yet?

"Nope."

"Well, it's good, anyways. You going to show the guys, when they get here?"

"Are they coming?"

"Yeah, in case you've wondered why we haven't seen Shawn yet," I said with a faint roll of my eyes, "- it's cause he's picking up the band and dragging them over here to discuss the plans for the new tour, and he mentioned something about wanting to write a new song, as well."

"Are you coming on the tour with us?"

"Do I ever stay behind from a tour? You kind of need someone to do merchandise anyways, with the 'merch warrior'-" I made air quotes and smiled at the reference to a webisode, "- off sick for a few weeks. And plus, she needs a bit of a break. I would come even if I didn't have a reason. You know how I hate being away from Shawn for too long."

How I hate being away from you for too long, I added silently. Shawn Milke was my brother. Patrick Thompson was my best friend. But I wanted him to be so much more. Wanted us to be so much more.

"Good point," he agreed with a nod. "Well, I'm going to rest for a bit. I've been up all night."

"All night? Dang Peezee, you need some rest. I'll wake you up when the guys get here."

"Thanks, Jay."

"No problem. I'd do anything for you, you know that." I said it as if I meant just as friends. But my heart hinted at something more. Patrick wouldn't notice, though. He never noticed. He left, and I sighed. I climbed the stairs to my room and flopped down on the bed. I was supposed to stay up and wait for the guys, but I forgot how tired I really was, and I slipped right off into sleep.

Bet you can guess who haunted my dreams. As always.

- - -

"Jamie, get up."

My brother's voice whispered softly in my ear as he shook my shoulder gently, careful not to scare me. I loved his gentle attitude when he was around me. I sat up and yawned. "It morning already?" I wondered blearily.

It had been my birthday. Everyone had respected the fact that I didn't want a huge party or anything, and they'd just given their seperate greetings when they'd seen me.

Except Patrick.

It cut me like a white hot knife to even think that my own best friend, and not only that, but the man I knew I loved, had forgotten my birthday. So I'd told everyone I was exhausted and went to bed, even though I hadn't been tired. All of the crying I'd done had tuckered me out though. It looked from the sky - which was just starting to get dark - that I'd only slept about an hour. I was groggy, but not tired.

"No, but I know you hate to sleep for too long unless it's night. And it's only about nine, Jamie. I'm going out to meet our tour manager for a while with Dennis. I was going to go with Pat, but I think he's still asleep. Careful not to wake him, alright?"

"Sure thing, Shawn. See you later."

"Bye." He gave me a quick hug and left.

The sound of the front door closing was almost eerie. Now I was alone in the house with my traitor of a friend. He was sleeping. Sleeping, when he hadn't even stopped to acknowledge the fact that I was another year older. I sighed softly and hugged my knees to my chest.

After that got uncomfortable, I got up from bed and went into the hallway, heading toward the living room, which was in darkness. I was about to switch on the light when I heard soft playing from the couch. Guitar playing.

Patrick's. Guitar. Playing.

I froze with my hand still hovering over the light switch, blinked slowly, and lowered my hand. He was looking at me, and then he gestured for me to come over and sit beside him. I felt like I was moving through the swamp of dreams as I did so, everything seemed slow and surreal. I positioned myself about a foot away from him on the couch. He shifted closer until we were almost brushing shoulders. I didn't move.

I recognized the soft, sweet sounds he'd shown me the beginning of before. It was obviously a finished song now, and he played it with a smile on his face, still saying nothing, staring at me. It might be a bit sinister to some, sitting in a dark room with a guy staring at you, but I could feel my stomach doing nervous backflips. What did he want?

"I lied, Jamie," he said finally, after finishing the song.

I was a little dumbstruck. "Huh?"

"The song did have a meaning."

I said nothing, I was still extremely flustered and confused.

"It's about... how I feel for you. Happy Birthday, Jay."

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could utter a single
word, Patrick Thompson leaned closer and touched his lips to mine.