OMFG IT HAS BEEN FAR TOO LONG I AM SO SORRY! D:
I've had so much shit to do...But the update rate should get back to normal soon, because I finished school for the christmas holidays today! :D But it's currently exactly midnight whilst I'm writing this, so yeah...This might be a bit shit.
Also, could you do me a huge favour and check out my Frerard story please? It just doesn't seem to be getting any lovin'. :( But I warn you; it's a bit fucked up. But if you've read any of my stories, you'll realise that pretty much all of my stories are fucked up.
Anyway, please read and review, because you know how much I love reviews! :')
Chapter 38 – Lullabies
"Come with me, and you'll be
In a world of pure imagination
Take a look and you'll see
Into your imagination
We'll begin, with a spin
Travelling in a world of my creation
What we'll see will defy explanation
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Want to change the world?
There's nothing to it
There is no life I know
To compare with your imagination
Living there, you'll be free
If you truly wish to be
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Want to change the world?
There's nothing to it
There is no life I know
To compare with pure imagination
Living there, you'll be free
If you truly
Wish to be…" I sang quietly, lulling Tyler to sleep. Yeah, he's fifteen, but you're never too old for a lullaby.
He had fallen asleep in my arms whilst I was singing to him, so I gently lifted him off me, and tucked him into bed. Gerard had left me with Tyler ages ago, and was sat downstairs when I found him.
"Well, I guess I should go…" I began, only to be interrupted.
"That was a beautiful song," he said, not looking up from his mug of coffee.
"Uh, thanks?"
"Where's it from?" he still didn't look up.
"Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. You know, the one with Gene Wilder?" He smiled and nodded, still staring at his coffee. "I used to sing it to Tyler all the time. Even as a baby. He could never sleep without it," I looked down at the floor, ashamed that I had left my own son in the clutches of Eliza Cuts.
"You have a beautiful voice, Christie. But I used to tell you that all the time, so I guess you always knew that." Jesus Christ man, is that coffee really that interesting? Look up!
"Thanks, but I really should go…" I turned my back and began to walk out.
"Don't leave. Not again." I stopped and looked back. He was looking up at me now.
"I have to. I'd only mess things up for you again. Don't you get it? It's all I do! Your life is always shit when I'm involved in it, and I'm not prepared to put you through that again."
"No, my life is shit withoutyou!" he rose from his seat and made his way around the dining table and to the space in front of me. "Don't you dare put yourself down, Christie. You are not a fuck up. Not at all. As much as you feel that, I'm telling you now; my life? It's nothing but a petty existence without you." I shook my head vigorously.
"Gerard, I can't…I'm trouble. I'm a slut. I'm a bitch. And you're better off without me." I turned to leave again, tears stinging my eyes.
"No…" he reached out and grabbed my arm, spinning me around quickly. I lost my balance and stumbled goofily into his arms. Oh,howcliché…I looked up and into his eyes. Oh,those eyes…I remember how he used to look at me and I'd just melt. He was doing it now.
Before I could gain any composure or balance, he had smashed his lips to mine in what felt like desperation. He gave me no time to think in between me falling and him kissing me. When I had gathered my thoughts and realised what he was doing, I did what I thought felt right; I kissed him back.
When we broke apart I took a step back. My hands were shaking and my eyes were wide.
"Y-you shouldn't have done that…" I stuttered.
"Why?" he asked, panting as if he were out of breath.
"Because now I want more…" my voice was sure of itself, and as soon as the words left my lips I stepped forward and kissed him, my heart pounding the whole time. He kissed me back, softer than before; less desperate. It felt like it always used to; perfect.
Our lips fit together without effort, and began to move, complimenting each other perfectly. His hands snaked to my hips to bring me closer to him, and one of them he then brought up to my cheek, sliding it into my hair. My hands were gripping onto his t-shirt with fistfuls of fabric. I never wanted to let go again. In that moment I knew what he had done. Something I hated that he always had a talent for.
He made me love him.