Living in a house with a nice garden was always a big dream of yours.
To see the flowers bloom after winter always warmed your heart you just wished to see your own garden bloom like the ones you always saw.
You wanted your hydrangea bush, roses, and all the flowers you could get your hands on, trees, a nice cherry blossom tree that would have gorgeous flowers during spring.
You craved it so badly, you always worked hard so you could just get that, a house, a garden a possibly a dog.
And yet somehow there you were, living in an apartment, well more like a penthouse with your boyfriend, Patrick.
He was controlling, you knew that, Patrick was… special. You noticed the small things about him. You saw how he went from smiling to a frown in less then a fraction of a second whenever he turned his back to his ‘friends’ or colleagues.
Even with you, you caught him doing it a couple times. But somehow it was still different.
Because with you at least he cared, Patrick was extremely possessive. He hated seeing you in short skirts in public. He hated the thought of other men seeing you like that. It was for his eyes only.
You were convinced he never listened to you, that he only cared about his public image. Because he did say nice things to you but never in private. He only showed some fraction of affection. Just to ensure in the public eye that you were his.
Not to say that he was rough or rude in private, he was just more… reserved? He kept to himself. He was rather quiet. He liked to work out. And your sex life was also very very active.
“Tomorrow, meet me during your lunch break, meet me at the park close to your building.”
You were surprised to hear that. Patrick usually went out to eat with his colleagues to eat. But you weren’t dumb, you of course agreed.
Next day, you headed to the park, only to see Patrick checking his watch before he looked up and spotted you.
He guided you to a perfectly set up picknick under a beautifully blooming tree.
“You said you like flowers…so…” he then stayed silent and sat down on the blanket he put out. You could only assume how hard was it for him to sit on the dirtyfloor. You also sat down only to have Patrick pull you close to his side. “You just wait. I will get us a house, with a big garden.”
You knew better than to tease him or to reply, so you just nodded.
You enjoyed your lunch break you would have to go back way too early.
“A big garden so our kids can run around in.” that almost made you choke on your sandwich. You looked at him, wide eyed.
“Kids?” you didn’t expect a reply, and you for sure didn’t get one. But you didn’t one either.
Summary: Living with Patrick was something you never really expected.
The two of you started as just a fling, it was meant to be a one night stand, nothing more, but he stayed over, and you didn’t mind. He had some serious skills in bed.
Then he asked you out on a date, one date followed another and in the end, you found yourself dating him.
Patrick was a difficult man, but there was something extremely rewarding about being with him.
No, not just sex.
You couldn’t quite point it out.
You enjoyed helping him choose a tie, watching him work out, and you tried your best to cook something nice for him whenever you could
He was sure you were nothing more than the other women he spent time with. He was sure you meant nothing.
But that wasn't the case.
He found himself being extremely possessive of you. One glance from another man, made his blood boil. And his hand reach towards any knife available.
Patrick had to be sure you were always by his side, you were his.
So, he asked you to move in, and you were happy to do so.
Even if he wanted to shoot you in the head from time to time with all the changes you made to his apartment, it was still better than to let another man look at you.
Patrick Bateman goes up to the counter and orders a venti caffé latte. When he reaches for his credit card to pay for the drink, the barista notices a drop of red liquid on his impeccably cuffed sleeve.
literally any upper middle class tiktok self-identified ‘that girl’ in a pastel workout set with a thirteen step skincare routine and a green juice is a million times closer to being patrick bateman irl than any self-identified sigma film bro
“There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable… I simply am not there.”
DOWN WITH THE SICKNESS “Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don’t know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip. (с)
