"He thinks that he'll be someone that he isn't; someone that I don't want him to be." Read, review, rate and feel my love :P
His voice is steady, unlike my breathing which seems to be in contest with my hammering heart. Is he serious? There's only one way to find out.
Oh god, he's looking straight at me with the conviction of his words igniting the sorrow in his eyes. He's serious. I can't tear my teary eyes from him; can I really rob the world of such a caring soul?
"No!" I find myself yelling and diving into his, seemingly psychic, arms.
Arms that hold me as I cry; arms that restrain me as I scream for my brother; arms that tell me that everything will be fine. But everything won't be fine. I don't see how it can be. Not now that Gee's gone forever. The one person who has always been there, always scared away my demons and always helped me through life, is gone. Dead. Deceased. Six-feet-under. Cold. In a better place. A place that's better off for having him in it. A place that I long to leave for.
He's kissing my forehead now, like Gee always used to. Apart from Gee did it naturally because it was what he was made for, Frank does it because he thinks that by doing what Gee did he'll be Gee; he thinks that he'll be someone that he isn't; someone that I don't want him to be.
"It's alright, Mikes. I've got you. It's okay."
I can hear him humming my favourite song to me, a song that he barely knows because it's a song that Gee made up for me when we were little. A song that hurts for me to hear because it isn't Gee that's humming it.
I feel like I've lost both of the important people in my life. My brother to a tragic accident that fate's cruel hand smeared onto his undeserving soul. And my Frankie to his longing to make everything better; to fill the gaping gap that only my brother can fill.
"No, it really fucking isn't!" My voice is hoarse and weighed down by the emotions that it is releasin; hate, anger, despair, anguish, agony, hopelessness.
I feel him flinch and his arms sag a little before tightening around my waist.
"Then why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you talk to me before you decided to jump into a motherfucking river?"
He looks wounded, he looks like I feel. And I hate myself for it. All he ever wanted to do was help, to be there for me; all I've ever done is keep him up late at night with my pathetic phone calls.
"I... I don't know, Frankie. Look, I'm sorry but everything isn't okay. It can't be. Not yet, anyway."
He nods against my face, our tears swapping cheeks in a cocktail of anguish and agony.
"I'm sorry, Mikes."
He sounds like Frankie again, my Frankie; not some guy trying to be the big brother that doesn't need replacing because he is still alive in my heart. That's why I can't let Frank replace him, because then I'll lose the Gerard that's locked up in my heart and mind.
"I just need you to understand that you're not Gerard. You're not my big brother and I don't want you to be; I don't want to lose you too. I don't need you to be my brother when you're already something equally important to me."
And I mean that. Just not in the way that he thinks. I love him and his painfully caring nature, in more than just a friendly way.
I look into his eyes to see a look of understanding swirl within their perfectness.
Before I can process it, his lips press softly onto mine. Admist the black butterflies that fluster my line of thought, I find the courage to kiss back. Neither of us smile into the kiss, understanding that this isn't some fun peck that won't impact us at all; considering all that we have been through together, this kiss will change everything, this kiss (even as it is still happening) is giving me hope and happiness. Because this isn't Gerard, this Frankie being the Frankie that I love and have missed.
"You're my boyfriend."
And I swear that I see a star twinkle at me, as though Gerard is smiling down at us in pride.