An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
posting schedule
Summary: The hand on his shoulder softens and trails down, fingers curling over his bicep, a little too soft, too warm, too nice. Patrick lifts his head and in the sliver of light peaking through the drawn curtains all he can see is a shock of messy black hair poking up under the comforter on the pillow beside him. He pulls his arm away from the touch and turns to sit up, taking in his surroundings. He’s in a studio apartment he doesn’t recognise, all shadows and unfamiliar shapes in the soft light. He hadn’t recognised the guy’s voice when he’d told him to get up. That fact somehow makes his heart race uncomfortably in his chest. Had he told Rachel he’d changed his mind? Had one of her friends let him crash here to avoid the imminent fallout? Or had he freaked out, taken solace with this stranger and gone home with him on the rebound? Him. Fuck. OR Patrick wakes up in bed beside his fiancé. The only problem with that is, it isn’t the same fiancée he had when he went to sleep. An amnesia fic, wherein Patrick can’t remember the two years of his life in which he really started living
(Please note this is a WIP with a very erratic posting schedule).
Cover Artwork by @confidently-hollieb
