"You know, you didn't have to walk over glass to look at my hand." I said. "I know I didn't need to. But I wanted to."
Just postin' a new chapter!
You know how people always say that alcohol makes you do things that you're too afraid to do?
Well I didn't want to take that risk. When Mikey pulled out the tequila I tried to remain calm, and put it in a different cabinet for later.
I had been good with the whole alcoholic thing, and was now able to drink with moderation.
But I had been thinking about Frank earlier. I loved him.
I couldn't. I couldn't drink. Not now. Lindsay was gone for two weeks, and I didn't want to do something to Frank. I told Mikey no, but he was persistent.
I had to press him against a wall and look him in the eyes for him to understand.
Of course he knew. I told him everything. He was the one person I could tell everything to. Sadly, he had opened his big mouth and told Ray.
So that's two people who knew my feelings.
Ray tried to break the silence with some jabber about afros, and Frank started to laugh.
I looked at him, and he seemed taken back.
I left the room, and got very angry at myself, so I hit a wall with my fist. I took a glass and threw it to the ground. It felt good to smash something. I destroyed about three more and just fell apart. I fell to the ground, my hand landing on the glass.
I started to bleed and I curled up into the corner of the room.
I heard voices from the other room, followed by footsteps. I looked up to see who it was.
"What happened to your hand, buddy?" he asked.
I looked at it and blushed. I felt weird. "Nothing."
"Let me look at it." he said as he motioned for me to come over to where he was. I shook my head. I didn't want to cause any more trouble.
He walked closer to the glass and me. I realized that he had taken off his shoes at the door just like Mikey and Ray. He was in only socks.
"Frankie, don't. You'll get glass in your feet."
He ignored me as he took a step closer, taking a deep breath. He stepped on the glass. He took another step and I saw blood starting to seep through his socks.
I couldn't believe it. Frankie. Walking on glass to be with me.
I felt like such a douche bag considering that I was wearing shoes.
He finally reached me and sat down next to me. "Now let's see that hand, mister." he said.
I put my hand out. There were pieces of glass sticking out of it. He gasped slightly and immediately started to pick it out.
I just blushed even more. Why did he care?
"Gerard." he said, his voice serious. I nodded. I could tell that he was going to say something important. "How the HELL did you get glass in your hand?!"
"I fell." I said as he was still picking out the glass. Surprisingly his feet weren't that bad. Just bloody. "You know, you didn't have to walk over mother fucking glass to look at my hand."
"I know I didn't need to. But I wanted to."
What did he mean?