CHAPTER 14: PATRICK

I am on fire. My skin sizzles from his touch. The way he's admiring my body has me flushing with desire.

Our last full day together means our time together is nearing an end. How is it this man barrels into my life, flips my routine on its axis, drags me out of my comfort zone, and I'm not mad about it? I have'ne thrown a fit… or too many of them at least.

[Patrick] "What would ye like to do today?"

[August] "I'd really like to see Edinburgh castle, try some of the local food, drink what the locals drink – good thing I have a local to show me the best spots."

the city from my perspective from the majestic Edinburgh Castle to the charming streets of Old Town. We enjoy a hearty meal of bangers and mash at the Silver Branch Pub. We make it back to my Uncle's farm where I have a blanket, a bottle of Macallan Scotch, and two glasses.

Now, we were back at the cottage, curled up together in bed, reliving the day's events. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light on our faces. August's arm was wrapped around me, his body radiating heat as we snuggled closer.

This man provides me the power to control my beasts. My mind is blank, my body is relaxed, and my heart is singing songs full of joy for the first time. Those songs though, they will go right back to ones of dread and despair the minute he leaves.

[August] "I'm going to miss this." August whispers, his voice heavy with sleep.

[Patrick] "Aye" I reply, feeling that familiar pang deep in my chest.

He nods, pressing a kiss to the scar on my forehead. August has helped me to realize I shouldn't be afraid or disgusted by this scar – I should see it as a powerful symbol of what I have overcome. He's right. I cannae keep hiding the painful pieces of my past, only to see them each time I take off the beanie. I need to embrace who I am, not what has been done to me.

We lay there in comfortable silence, the events of our time together sifting through my mind. I'm not ready to watch him get on his plane tomorrow afternoon, or say goodbye. I want to tell him he's changed me, how he's made me obsessed about him. I want to bare my soul and tell him I love him.

What will it matter? It will not change anything even if I do.

We've agreed to stay in touch with text and calls, but I can already sense him slipping away. Or is it me who has sealed our fate to be so?

As I try and quiet my racing thoughts, I begin to drift off in his arms, exactly where I want to be.

Just as I'm about to fully surrender to sleep, a sound tore through the quiet calm of the room.

It was loud, unapologetic, and entirely impossible to ignore.

A fart. A massive, earth-shattering fart.

My eyes snap open, and for a moment, I'm too stunned to move as I stare wide-eyed into the dark.

Did that really just happen? [shock] Aye, it did.

As realization strikes, I bolt upright, clicking on the bedside lamp.

[Patrick] " Holy shite! Did ye just –" – [pause] "Gah! Fuckin' hell! " I scramble out of bed and wave my hand wildly through the air as I'm smacked in the face with the foulest stench I've ever happened upon. "Ye have a demon in ya, mate! [aghast] Fuck me! That's rank! "

August cannae contain himself as he rolls with laughter on the bed.

[August] "What did you expect would happen after eating bangers and mash right before bed!"

[Patrick] "I dinnae think ye'd blost [blow up] the room! Christ, mate! Are ye okay? Sounded like ya shat yerself!"

August bursts into laughter again, unable to give an answer.

[Patrick] "That was'ne breaking wind or slipping one out – that – that was – oh my God I still smell it!" I wave my hand through the air, trying to clear the noxious fumes. "Bloody hell! It's not leaving!" I stagger to the window, swing it open, and take in deep breaths of fresh air.

August is still laughing, tears streaming down his face now.

[August] "Sorry. [sheepish] I feel better though."

I glare at him, trying my best to hold back laughing with him. It would only encourage him.

[Patrick] "Yer unbelievable."

[August] "Hey, as my Pappy says; ‘better out than in', right?"

I shake my head and laugh, unable to help myself.

[Patrick] "Ye never cease surprising me, August. Never."

[August] "Same. In all the ways." He quips.

Leaving the window open, I climb under the covers, the fresh air slowly dissipating the lingering smell. I rest my head on my pillow and turn to face him.

[August] "You're never going to let me live this one down, are you?" He probes, his voice still tinged with laughter.

[Patrick] "Not a chance, cowboy." I say, a smile tugging at my lips as I hesitantly scoot closer. "Tomorrow, I'm finding ye a biohazard label. I feel bad fer the other plane passengers."

August chuckles with amusement as he locks me tight within his hold and we stay that way until morning, thankfully, with no more gastastrophes.

I used to think of the phrase ‘love stinks' in a poetic, metaphorical, and often musical way – until August redefined it fer me in the most literal sense possible.