Re: [The Bridge over the River: Patrick/Newt]
[Patrick was young, man, and his clarity was of the black and white variety. He still saw things as right or wrong, and he was only now learning that solid opinions were often not so solid in the middle of experiencing things. It was all most confusing for the dude, and he was feeling most overwhelmed that day.] I do not feel most gentlemanly this day. [That was a confession uttered while they walked with companionable distance between them, and he had not been aware the fliers were not visible to all. But, Newt commented upon Destiny, and Patrick shook his head.] Man, I do not know. Maybe I just do not see myself doing it. I am certain I will be painted the asshole in this, and there is nothing I can do to avoid it. This is how it feels. [Which was confessional, man, and the dude did not mean to unload.
So, he did not continue on the topic. He watched as Newt sat upon the stairs beside Rufus. He was standing now, and he chuckled as Newt greeted the dog.] Do not romance the dog, man. [He winked. It was an honest wink, one paired with a tired smile that was genuine, if dimmed.] The stones will bring me back if I need you. But, man, do not worry about me while I am gone. Do what you need to do for you, whatever that may be. [And, maybe it was all contradictory, but the dude crouched in front of where Newt sat, and he slid a hand along Newt's cheek and into ginger behind his ear. If this was allowed, he tugged Newt forward for a kiss that was brief, but warm and tasting of desire and despair mingled, and then he drew back and pulled the stones from his pocket. He gave the dude another wink and, in a flash of most blinding blue light, he was gone.]