Frank still has his doubts and doesn't know if he can trust anyone... Almost smut :)
We broke apart to inhale a deep breath before he picked me up off the floor and took me inside. I was shivering from the now terrential rainfall, clinging onto him for warmth and because i didn't want this to ever end. Softly, he helped me to the floor, my shoes sliding in the dirty, cold tiles. I fell to the floor and hit my head on the backdoor, laughing hysterically along with Gerard who was clutching his sides before i yanked him down next to me.
Moment Killer! That was going to be like something out of the notebook! Gerard laughed, he was so funny sometimes. Didn't your mother ever tell you, you have to create your own love stories! Stealing someone elses is just mean! I pout at him, he smiles brightly at me before nibbling at my bottom lip and asking for entrance once again. We stay there for what feels like forever, arms locked around one another, his lips attacking mine. Not the way my customers would kiss me, much gentler, more meaning escaping from his soul.
He lays me down into my back and crawls up my small physique before kissing me softly on the lips. He then moves down to my neck and gently begins to bite and suck at the still wet cold skin. The feeling is amazing. He bits me just a little too hard out of nowhere. That's what they used to do to me. They always did. I shove him off me with as much force as i can gather Stop! Stop! Stop it! I scream backing away, leaning against the door again. He looks deeply hurt, almost broken. I bury my head in between my knees and cry. Waiting for the end to actually come. When i can finally love again.
A week later
Noon. I stumble in to my parents house, more than a little bit hungover. They've gone travelling for the next few months or so, so this place is all mine right now. One heck of a place it is too. See, due to one of my rich great uncles untimely death, we inherited his state home. A mansion with everything you could possibly ask for. That doesn't stop it though, that doesn't stop me wanting to get the fuck out of here.
See, i love this place. I spent time here as a child playing piano and drawing with Elena. She lived here too, before she moved out into her own little cottage in Centre Belleville. Initially, we were staying with her, me and Frankie that is. But my parents needed a house minder and we needed a place to stay, so it just made sense. Plus Elena's pet cat claws me to pieces whenever i visit. A few months of that? No thanks, i can take the hissing but that thing has claws like a chainsaw!
Frank's been acting off lately though. He doesn't really say too much to me, he doesn't even sleep next to me anymore. I don't know why. Well, OK i can think of a couple of good reasons why. The main and first reason being that since that day when i freaked him out trying to move it along way to quickly I've been using prostitutes. Not many, just the odd one here and there. They always need places to go so i bring them here. That's not so bad is it? It is my family's house and it is in the middle of nowhere. They get tips too, i pay them good and they don't mean anything to me at all. He should know that he is the most important person to me. How many other prostitutes do i have living with me? How many of them do i want to share my bed with? How many of them do i actually eat with and watch awful cartoon sketches with?
Frankie! I call my throat burning from the Jack Daniels i had downed the night before. He came to the top of the the stairs looking more than a little bit distressed. What? He said, using a vicious tone i didn't think someone so sweet and cute could ever make. I was wondering if you wanted to come and make breakfast with me? I try. Knowing he liked it when we cooked together, well cooked between making out and throwing food at eachother. Breakfast was three hours ago Gerard. Three hours ago, probably when you were still drunk and fucking some whore in an allweyway. He says before turning on his heel and walking down the hallway. Woah wait! I said charging after him. Why was he being like this? I'd been drunk, yes but i hadn't stooped to that level. Frank, you have no right to talk to me like tha- I said but he shoved me out of his way with his shoulder, carrying a huge sports bag with him. Where are you going? I said, my voice more worried than angry now. I'm going to find somewhere to stay Gerard. Until you can actually function without another bottle or sex with a walking STD. He says drawing closer to the stairs. His eyes burning into mine.
I run again, hopping over the banister the way we always used to as kids, blocking the front door from his hasty exit. Out of the way. He said bluntly. Just staring at me, hate flashing in his wide, tired eyes. You think you can leave Frankie? You think you can just pack up and go? Like all the other ones of your kind, well fuck you then. I snarl, seriously pissed now. He suddenly drops his bag and smacks me hard across the face. OTHER ONES OF MY KIND! MY KIND, HUH? WELL ONLY YOU'D KNOW ABOUT THAT WOULDN'T YOU. DIFFERENT WOMEN EVERY NIGHT! FUCK YOU! He screams at me. Shit, i should not have said that. I push him backwards as he continues to scream in my face and he lands with a thud to the wooden floor.
Oh my god, Frank i'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you fall that hard. I say gently picking him up as blood gushes from his head. I prop him up on one of the kitchen stools and search for the first aid kit. I frantically wrapped the bandages tightly around his head as tears slide down his face as well as mine. Mine stings from the slap i had recieved just seconds earlier, helping me feel an inkling of the emotional pain he must be enduring. I look at him and bite my lip, unsure of what to say without fully breaking down. Yo-you called me a whore. He muttered and my chest began to ache. That was what last week was about, wasn't it? You tried to because you thought i wouldn't mind, because it was my job. He continued. I had heard more than enough. I lifted him off the stool as he squirmed in my grip slightly. Frankie, i'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you that. You're not one of them. You never have been or ever will be to me. Just, I-I want you to stay here. I don't want you to leave. I admitted, feeling slightly weak as i never usually told people the truth about myself. But you know i would've come back when you were sober. He cries. I left you a letter explaining everything. I would have still needed you Gee.* He called me Gee, not Gerard. He rarely called me that anymore, he was mad at me alot of the time these days.
Can we just go back to the start? I ask him.
Okay. He says.
And we walk into the living room, for an entire afternoon and evening of watching awful cartoon sketches.
Thanks Kiddos! xx