Gerard POV. Frank reveals all.
What? I don’t understand. He’s upset because I’m happy? What on earth is going through that boys head?
He must have a good reason to feel like this and create such strong emotions that he couldn’t take being in the same room as me. I’m not mad, just confused.
Summoning up the courage to go and talk to Frank without my head being bitten off in another chance to shout at me more and take out every single flattened out; screwed; air deprived emotion on me then we might just have a chance to work things out and for Frank to finally confess what’s been on his mind.
We’re friends; we’re supposed to talk to each other, because bottling up feelings is far worse than letting out a little secret. Isn’t it?
I knock on the door twice. “Frank, please can we talk?”
Waiting a few moments before the bedroom room swung open revealing red blotchy eyes; tear stained cheeks and a quivering upper lip. Frank looked torn to bits.
I put on a reassuring smile, “Please tell me what’s wrong?” I needed Frank to open up to me. In all honesty, seeing him like this was like a chainsaw to my heart. No one could actually watch someone in distress and not feel something.
Frank sniffed; moving his fringe to aside. “You’re going to hate me…” he trailed off looking down to the carpet.
Why would I hate him? My best friend! He was probably the only person keeping me sane!
“Frank, I could NEVER hate you” he raised his head slipping out a small laugh as if he was being sarcastic to the matter.
“Are you sure about that?” I frowned, he was being serious. It would have to be something big for him to even question my anger before – hand.
“Positive” Common Frankie, just say it!
He looked into my eyes, his were capacitated with fear. Like a black hole; swirling around taking in all the good things, but then when the past catches up with you and finally the truth has to be revealed there was certainly no climbing back up to safety, you just had to face your demons and take whatever’s coming.
“I love you”
My eyes widened causing Frank’s to enclose and look down, I didn’t give him a very good sign.
He… he loved me?
My heart started racing uncontrollably, my palms became sweaty and the intensity surging through my lip with each nibble I made became numb.
What was I feeling? Am I confused in any way, sexually preferably?
Did I feel the same way?
Did I love how the twinkle in his hazel eyes transfers electrical currents of excitement and glee?
Did I love the way he laughed at our silly jokes, our immature inside jokes which only we are tuned in on?
Or did I love the fact that he was a respectable, caring, interesting guy who I seemed to always get on with and never get tired of? The impurity of always looking out for each other through thick and thin, taking every blow we both had felt from time to time and just generally trusting each other was
I had made up my mind.
Surprising myself, I cupped his face in my hands; taking in every inch of perfection, realising what I have, what I could have.
And what I’ve always had. 7 years and this is it.
Inching my face closer and closer to his until I could feel his tingling warm breath tickle my lips.
My lips pecked his, slowly pressing together, fireworks go off in my head causing the kiss to evolve more as our mouths work in sync with each other.
Full make-out mode.