Author's Note: Sorry for the late update, the website was being a butthole and didn't want to upload my stories, so yeah. Enjoy!
FRANK'S POV:
I shuddered at the pure thought of someone being in this room without our knowledge. What did they want? Who was it? Why did they choose Gerard to intrude? What does 617 mean?
As these questions ran around in my brain, I was unfazed by Gee's request.
"Frank, what's wrong, hun?" He knew exactly what. And he wasn't good at hiding the fact that he was afraid as well.
Gerard's face was of happiness, but his eyes were flooded with the terror that lurked in the room. His room seemed contaminated now. So much, to where it was almost tangible. Right along with our fear, that is.
"Hey, it's going to be okay. Let's just enjoy the day, all right? Today is our day, so what do you have in mind?" Gerard's hopefulness gave me a sense of relief, and I smiled a little at the fact that he was so persistent in going somewhere.
"I'm not too sure. Maybe we can go to that restaurant you always wanted to go to. It seems really nice, and we can be alone since it isn't ever crowded," I suggested. The restaurant was just fifteen minutes away from Gerard's house.
"That sounds amazing! Shouldn't we save that for dinner, though…? What do we do until then?" He gave me a sexy smirk, but I knew it was just a little joke. I laughed at the face he made while he smiled at me.
I kind of wanted to walk around in the fall breeze, being that it was so beautiful. "How about a nice walk? It's so pretty outside. We can figure out our other plans then," Gee seemed to like the idea, so we changed our clothes and put on our converse.
Walking out of the Way's house, I jogged down the steps in sync with Gerard's feet. We both walked slowly down the sidewalk that traced Salter Street. "I love you," he randomly said sweetly.
Blushing, I responded, "I love you, too," as I said this, Gerard grabbed my hand in his. We both walked in silence down the empty, golden leaf littered road, unknowing of our destination.
The wind whipped Gerard's long black hair across his face, but he didn't care. I decided on smoothing it out of his eyes, and he smiled at me as my hand grazed the tip of his nose. As if we shared the same mind, we both looked around carefully to see if anyone was watching, and then he pulled me in for a short, innocent kiss.
We walked for a couple minutes more, and found ourselves in front of his high school. He stopped and dropped my hand. Gerard looked up at the brick building, looking at it like it was a bad memory, even though he didn't finish it yet.
I had dropped out that year, and I wasn't exactly proud of myself.
Gerard looked it up and down, and then comically shot it a big fat middle finger. I smiled. He dropped his hand back to his side. Gee turned to me; his face was serious.
"Frank, do you think I should quit?" He was genuine with his question, seriously considering the possibility.
I thought through his question, and then carefully answered, "Have you seen what it has done to me? I won't be able to get any good jobs, or buy a car of my own, or even a house. It will be difficult. I know that. I knew it when I quit, but I just couldn't do it, Gerard. High school almost killed me," Gerard lowered his eyes at the ground and rolled a pebble around with the toe of his shoe, remembering that day, "There are times when you know it's best that you quit. But I want you to hold on for as long as you can. Ever since my incident, I knew I couldn't stay at school. But you, Gerard? You have talent. You can get somewhere in life. I want you to finish high school, then go to art school."
He looked at me with a large smile and said, "I will."
I shot a smile back at him and we continued to stride down the street, taking in the vibrant yellows, reds, and oranges of the trees. We must have walked for maybe thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes of holding Gerard's hand. Thirty minutes of exchanging smiles. Thirty minutes of pedestrians giving weird looks. Thirty minutes of little kids smiling at our intertwining fingers.
My feet were hurting as I stopped to rest in front of a small gas station. Gerard sat next to me on the cement drop off leading to the front door of the shop. "Exhausted?" He asked, apparently exhausted in his own self. Resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his fists, he sighed in relief.
"Yeah, you wanna take the bus back?" I asked, hoping he'd say yes.
"Sure, I'm up for it. There's a stop right up the road, and the bus should be coming in about five minutes," he stopped to check his silver watch, squinting at it. He nodded in confirmation, "Yeah, we should start walking."
We both bounded up and started up the street, until we reached the metal bench. A roof made of metal, with plastic ads displayed on its sides, sheltered it. Several "Lost Puppy" posters were taped on various spots. I admired the puppy photos for the remaining minutes until our bus came. The dogs were quite adorable.
We paid our tolls, marched to the back of the bus, and rode back to his house in silence. Not a bad silence, but the silence where you both know that there is nothing to say, and you just enjoy each others company.
Once we got back to Gerard's house, we locked ourselves in his room once more. I laughed and then jumped on his bed, snuggling the pillows and blankets. I felt so happy to lie down. All of my muscles relaxed and I closed my eyes, grinning widely.
I heard Gerard laugh. He snuck into the open space next to me and we slipped under his comforter. He breathed out, "You can fall asleep if you want to, Frankie,"
I went red in the face, but kept my eyes closed, "Okay, Gee," I mumbled back, tiredly.
Gerard slipped closer and then pecked my lips. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and with his free hand, played with my hair until he fell asleep, too.
I had a nightmare during our sleep. I was watching a television screen. On it was Gerard in a white room. But he wasn't the same. He was hurt, and evidently in pain, as he cried out for help. But he didn't need help, because where he was, was an asylum. I knew because he was wearing a straight jacket. It was as white as the walls in the room. The only color in the room was his black hair. He kept yelling for anyone to help him. I found myself crying in the chair I sat in, watching Gerard get tortured. "Frankie…?" He said more distantly, more desperately. I sobbed even more, because I couldn't help him. He was broken beyond repair and I couldn't mend him back up.
