Frank finds it difficult to restrain. It gets hard and hard until... Well, just go ahead and read. ;)
We decided we'd hang at Gee's place this time. He saw my crappy, small house that didn't even have an attic. He said he "liked" it, but I knew he was just being kind. Hell, I didn't even have privacy!
I'm simply curious and want to see the Way's place.
Mikey's with Blaire again, hanging out at Starbucks, so it was just Gerard and I. I stay really close, remembering what Gee had said about his house being haunted.
"Please and thank you, Gee."
"Make yourself at home."
"Alright," I reply, sitting in a chair.
Despite the house being "haunted", the Way residence is big and beautiful. When you first walk in, there's a little area with an iron table set for tea. Past that is the living room, neatly organized with photos on the mantle of the fireplace. In the next room is the beautiful, modern kitchen. It looks like something out of a magazine! I have yet to see the other rooms, but I don't complain.
"Gee... Your house is amazing!"
"Erm... Th-Thanks. Here's your coffee."
"Thanks," I say, taking the mug.
"Wanna hang in my room? I can give you a tour first."
I chuckle. "Mm sure. Thanks, Gerard."
I get up and follow, forgetting the mug.
Honestly, I'm starting to get freaked out. I can't get "haunted house" out of my head.
"This is my parents' room," says Gee.
"Wow..." It. Is. AMAZING. The iron bed is covered in linen, white sheets and soft pillows. The whole room just has a beach-house theme and feels serene. The vanity is ivory wood with seashell paintings and drawings. There's a balcony made of marble the color of sand.
"This is incredible..."
“Yeah, well…” Gee shrugs. “My mother loves to decorate! Thank God she hasn’t touched my room. I did it all myself. Mikey’s is alright,” he continues, leading me to Mikey’s room. “Still looks like something out of IKEA, but it’s okay.”
I nod, inspecting the room.
In the middle is a small bed with blue bed covers. In the corner is a small desk with many drawers and a space for a computer. The windows are covered with green and blue curtains. The only things that look normal – Mikey normal, that is – is the bass guitar in the corner of the room, the straight ironers on his desk beside the mirror, a few band posters, especially Anthrax, scattered on his wall, the makeup and the empty coffee cup.
Heh. Typical Mikey.
“Where’s your room?” I ask.
“In the attic. More privacy. We use the other room as a guest room.”
I freeze. His house is “haunted”.
Worst rooms in a “haunted house”?
Basement and – yep! – the attic.
“Well, let’s go.”
“C’mon, Frankles!” he starts up the steps, abandoning me.
“Wait!” I yell, grabbing his hand. My stomach summersaults at the feel of his pale skin. My face suddenly begins to burn.
“F-Frankie..?” mumbles Gerard.
“A-Are you okay?”
“…Mm-mm…” I shake my head.
“Well… What’s wrong..?”
I’m not a scaredy cat. I just get creeped out. But ghosts aren’t enough to make me tremble like this…
I simply shrug.
I honestly don’t know what’s happening to me.
I can hear him swallow and feel his body heat radiating off of him. He squeezes my hand and laces our fingers slowly.
I nod and walk with him, my heart pounding.
He’s so close to me…
I look up at him as he leads me into his punk-styled room.
I don’t even inspect the room.
I’m distracted by his mysterious, jade-green eyes. He’s just so beautiful with his strong jaw, his spidery artistic white fingers rough from the art work he’s done. His throat, his broad shoulders, beautiful eyes, plush lips, gorgeous hair… He’s amazing in every way.
Suddenly his eyes flicker to me.
He was probably talking, but don’t hear a word he says.
His eyes sparkle with confusion and curiosity as he looks back into mine. My stomach flips again, but I hold his gaze. My body begins to dysfunction, moving on its own as if it has a mind of its own.
I look down at my hands as they lift ours, my other hand grasping his tight, holding it with both of mine. I look back up at him, holding his hand to my cheek.
“F-Frank-kie,” he breathes.
My body didn’t stop.
It wanted more.
My feet make me tippy-toe as my brain instructs my head to tilt upward and my eyes to close.
I know what’s going on and I want it to happen.
What goes on next surprises me.
He wants it, too.
Frank is just
Sexy. Seductive. Amazing. Talented.
I push him up against the wall as I lean down and kiss him back, my hands against the wall on both sides of his head.
I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t care. I want this. I need this.
I hear him gasp as I do so. His hands find their way around my neck, running up my sides first. I start feeling lightheaded.
Gerard, what’re you doing?
My eyes shot open.
I’m kissing Frank.
I’m kissing a guy I just met.
“Mmm!” I say as I push him off.
He looks at me like he’s half drunk. Then he’s confused and hurt.
“Frank, I… I’m sorry, I…”
“Oh God… Shit. Gee – I mean, Gerard, I’m so sorry… I’m so…. Oh God, I… I… I gotta go…”
He runs down the stairs and out my door. I just stand there, shocked. My knees suddenly give out and I fall to the floor.
“What was that..?” I mumble to myself.
I touch my lips and stare at the wall. I’m in too much shock to feel anything. To feel hurt or anger or regret or love or happiness.
My mind is blank.
I don’t even notice Mikey walking in.
“Geeeee..? I juusssttt ssaaawww Frraaannkkkk runninnnggg awwaayyyy… Whaaatt’sss wrooonnnggg?” His voice is slightly muffled and I’m dizzy, my eyesight blurred.
“Mikey…” I whisper. “I… I just…”
I fall back and everything goes black.