Chapter 8

*A/N: I wrote this in just under an hour so that everyone could get something special to read on New Year's Day... All the best for 2015 guys! and thanks for all the support (although may not update another chapter until I know people a reading and enjoying) anyway hope to hear from you soon and enjoy reading!

Chapter 8

It had been three weeks since the meal incident, three weeks where Gerard and I saw each other either whilst we ate or if he needed something to be done that he couldn’t- which was essentially my job. But in that time I also realized how pointless I was, it was like having a roommate, one that I had offended and was getting paid by, we had established a routine that he would eat, go to his room, eat and sleep. And I still hadn’t seen his eyes.

I didn’t sleep much anymore, after having slept in a variety of places where any minute you could have your wallet stolen or be p*ssed on. I knew if I fell asleep for too long I’d be awoken by my own routine built from years of waking up for jobs, caring for parents, school and then college- I dazed off to sleep late, woke up early. No matter how comfortable and warm Mikey’s bed was. Ever been in a bed that makes you feel as if you are a part of the mattress and the duvet a warm cocoon? When I was a kid I used to think if I didn’t tuck in my toes they may be snapped and chomped on by monsters that hide under the bed… it’s odd how such thing as the space under the bed could hide so many monsters yet bring us relief and comfort when we wished to cower from them.

I stare up at the ceiling of the room, how against the white smooth surface stars decorated the expanse of it, once they used to glow but now left as a dull yellow that is hardly seen in the black of night.

“Ahhhh!” I great roar jolts me, my heart hammers against my chest as I look to the alarm clock: 01:24 am. It is followed by a loud CRASH and the sound of whimpering.

I leap out of bed, my warm cocoon left behind as the cold air chills my Star Wars pajama clad legs unexpectedly. It doesn’t matter that my chest is bare or that I am stumbling loudly because all I can think of is the way the whimpers are accompanied by screams.

“Gerard!?” I pant as I burst into his room, the first time I have ever seen it although it’s dark, I search for the bed and stumble to the side of it where Gerard is lay tangled in a heap of his sheets and clawing at his eyes. At any place he can reach.

“Gerard. Gerard. It’s Frank. Wake up. It’s okay. Calm down, I’m here.” I tell him reminding myself to stay calm, I need to stay calm or I will be a mess. Just the look of Gerard’s crumpled face in pain makes me frantic at what to do. I lay him on the floor softly so his blanket is no longer constricting him and I simply cover his eyes so that he doesn’t do any more damage to the red raised scratches from eyebrow to cheek, his cries stop as I touch him and reassure him turning into soft whimpers. “Gerard it’s okay, I’m here, you’re okay.” I shush him stroking his cheek lovingly and wiping back his matter sweaty black hair that was already coated in the well built up grease. He seems to cling to me now, his eyes are racing around under his eyelids, those lemon shaped closed eyes that I had seen that time in the kitchen, now full on and I knew within seconds I could be close to seeing his eyes. His eyes of mystery and beauty- no matter what they looked like. “Just let go, Gee. Come back to me and let go. They can’t hurt you anymore.” At that moment I don’t know if it is the dream I’m protecting him from or the source of the dream.

With a gasp he jolts awake, rolling to his side and I turn my head away. “Frank? What are you doing?” I hear him moan out, his lip trembling with his breath as he pulls a gasp in.

My eyebrows pull down and I stiffen a little in hurt, “I hear you crash to the floor, I was worried you were hurt or having a fit.” And then I realize what he really meant, my position of sitting saddled over his stomach, my heavy panting and my hands now pressed on his chest. I jump a little a scramble to get away only to find him reach out to grab my hand, his hands are like ice to my arm- his hand white as snow wrapped around my ink covered wrist makes me eyes bulge. How something so delicate can fit so well against something flawed, how it didn’t fit together but yet it looked… and felt… just so right.

“Stay.” He says softly as he turns his head to me, his eyelids replace the role of his sunglasses and in the dark I take a moment to just admire him. Weighing my options.

But after all he’s just too enticing, I had longed for his touch- for some form of contact or interaction with him for so long; I needed this as much as he did. I could tell by the whimper he released and the pull of his forehead, his eyebrows tight in pain which makes his nose scrunch up and his face appear more rounded. In the dark he’s angelic, as if he belongs.