Frankie's POV. Is Gerard's drinking destroying their relationship?
Author's Note: Hi! I'm new here, as you may/may not know, and I'm happy to be at a brand new, shiny fanfiction site. This is chapter one of a story I wrote as a gift for a friend. It's basically just a chronology of Gerard and Frankie's turbulent relationship. I hope you enjoy it, and please comment if you do!
Chapter 1. Deserving
I stared at him. I couldn’t help it. I don’t think I’d ever seen anything quite so beautiful in my life. Curled up beneath the sheets, with black hair - normally so perfectly combed to the side - mussed and untidy. Those big, puppy dog eyes, a pale brown, closed in sleep. Defined pink lips parted slightly, angelic puffs of breath escaping. His pale face nuzzled against the pillow. His small, rounded nose wrinkled. Frankie was so cute when he slept.
And, tragically, I didn’t deserve any of it.
I didn’t deserve his praise. I didn’t deserve his affection. I didn’t deserve the soft way he smiled, or the way he held my head up after a long night of drinking. It was so unfair.
I was being unfair, too, but in a different way. Frankie didn’t deserve his “responsibilities” - making sure I was okay when I’d had too much to drink, making sure I never took too many drugs, making sure that I stayed alive. I was unfair because I made him cry, made him worry, and made him take care of me when I was old enough to do it myself. But he was unfair to himself, because he always let me take advantage of him.
Maybe that was Frankie’s idea of love - sacrificing everything you have for the other person, no matter how fucked up they are. Well, I was fucked up, and Frankie just didn’t need me. Not when he had Mikey, Bob, and Ray around.
I kissed his cheek, just soft enough to keep him asleep. He smiled in his sleep, a small smile, and murmured “Gerard” as he hugged his pillow.
I got up and walked to the kitchen, just to fuck myself up again.
Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed it, and comments are appreciated!