No shameless acts of suicide.
But lord, would you take a look at this room.
It’s like Donald Trump puked all of his money into this single room, but with more taste, of course.
I yawned one last time and looked over to the empty space beside me, trying to dampen the sadness that slowly crept over me.
Well, he has to be somewhere, I thought to myself, throwing the covers off and swinging my feet down on the plush carpet. It almost felt better than the foam mattress.
Making my way into the hallway, I looked to the left, where Gerard didn’t take me. There were only two doors at the end of the space, and the closest one was slightly opened.
I walked over to it and watched him from the door, too shy to go in, my eyes peeking through the crack into the shabby room with a punching bag in the back and plastic mats covering the rest of the floor.
Gerard's shirt was off, sprawled by the bathroom door on the right side of the room, and the only thing he sported was grey baggy sweats. He seemed to be practicing difficult martial arts moves, some I've only seen done by masters of the sort.
He was amazingly graceful with his movements no matter what he was doing. I bit my lower lip and thought of last night as I gazed at his chest.
"Frank!" he yelled, making me practically jump out of his slightly oversized shirt that I (only) slept in last night. I pushed the door all the way open, trying to make it seem that I was just walking by. Of course, he knew I was watching him. "Just the man I wanted to see."
I stepped in the room, my teeth clenching as my bare feet hit the cold plastic mats.
"Don't be shy," he said, and I almost heard a faint purring in his voice that made me blush. "I have your clothes, but they're fairly ratty. Do you have anything other than these?"
He walked over to a metal bench next to the door and held up an extremely faded and slightly bloodstained black Cheap Trick tee and a pair of my favorite (and only) blown out skinny jeans. My combat boots sat under the bench.
"My backpack is still in my room on the train," I said, shivering against the air conditioned breeze.
"That's what I thought. I had Eva arrange a shipment of some clothes for you."
"Wait, what?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. "That's unnecessary."
"No, please," he laughed, "take it as an apology for having to deal with me."
I bit my lip as an effort to not say anything. I never liked, or needed, handouts. I never accepted thank you letters or gifts of any kind from my contractors. I'd take my check and leave it at that.
"Can I keep my boots?" I asked, smiling when he took them from under the bench and gave them to me.
"I don't think I could part with my boots, either," he chuckled, looking at my legs as I hugged the boots closer to my chest.
Gerard looked back to my eyes as if to snap from a trance. I eyed him suspiciously, not helping that my eyes trailed down his chest.
"There is something I have to confess, Frank," he said, taking my boots from me and setting them down in the hallway. I crossed my arms, feeling a little bit empty without the boots in my arms.
"Is it about last night?" I asked, breathing not coming easy as he put his hands on my shoulder.
"In a way," he whispered, looking directly into my eyes. "What happened last night was very complicated for me."
I furrowed my eyebrows and unclenched my arms. "How so?"
"I," he started, sighing and holding back something he wanted to say, "I can't tell you why. Not yet. But I promise, it'll become clear."
I held back a sniffle. My emotions usually never were shown, especially in front of other hitmen. I loved to show that I was tougher than everyone else. Maybe it was to make up for my height.
My emotions were caught elsewhere when he traced my jawbone with his finger, playing with my lower lip before quickly letting his hand fall, like it was a mistake.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered, my voice cracking as I freely let my emotions go. It was weird not having them in check.
"Doing what, signore?" he whispered back, pulling me closer and kissing my forehead, making me shiver.
"You almost kill me, you kidnap me, and now… this?"
Gerard hushed me comfortingly, raking my dirty hair with his hand. The other hand grasped my neck intimately.
I cried a tiny bit, the whirlwind of mixed emotions making me dizzy. I cried into his bare chest until my eyes felt like they were a desert.
"Hey," he said, lifting my chin, "why don't you take a bath? I'll have Eva bring in your new clothes."
I nodded and crossed my arms, not looking at him as I quickly walked to the bathroom door, shutting it behind me without looking back.
The brown and gold hued clay tile was colder than the plastic on the mats, making me quickly tiptoe to the sink. I held on to the edge of the counter for dear life.
Breathe, in and out. Breathe, I told myself, watching myself in the mirror, taking a big breath in and blowing out with puffed out cheeks. I honestly did not want to sort out my feelings about Gerard.
For Christ sakes, I met him two days ago. Don't do this to yourself, Frank.
I rubbed my nose and looked at the tub, which actually looked more like a Jacuzzi with ten jets on every side. I wasn't even sure how to turn on the thing.
I leaned over the side and found a little blue button that said: start, and pushed it, watching the water come out of the middle of the bottom.
When it was 3/4 full, the bottom hole closed shut, letting the water stay that full, glistening and still, inviting me in.
I took off the shirt and my boxers, smiling as I sat on the edge and dipped my feet into the water. It was steamy hot.
I almost giggled as I dipped my ankles in, then I went in further until my knees were submerged, my toes finally hitting the silk feeling bottom. I sighed in pleasure, sliding the rest of the way in.
"Oh, the sweet luxury of warm water," I sighed, thinking back to the last time I had a bath. Which was last month? How did I not steer Gerard with my stench alone, I'll never know.
I flipped over, lying on my stomach, sighing in pleasure as it relieved every muscle in my body.
My eyes were becoming droopy as a knock echoed through the room. I had just realized that the shower curtain wasn't pulled back as I asked who it was, pulling it back only to reveal my face as Gerard opened the door.
"I have your clothes," he said, raising the bundle of all black clothing and extending an arm out to avoid stepping in the room. He couldn't reach the counter.
"You can come in," I offered, slightly flirtatious, kicking my legs in and out of the water. He chuckled nervously and stepped in, still decked out in the sweatpants, and set the clothes on the counter.
"Do you like it?" he asked, gripping his hands behind his back as if to resist temptation.
"Yes," I chuckled, "and I haven't even tried all the features yet."
He smiled and rocked on his heels, waiting for something else to happen.
"If you're looking to join me, it's not going to happen," I deviously said, giggling as he blushed.
"Sorry, I'll leave," he said, quickly turning around and heading for the door. My mood fell; I actually wanted him to protest.
As his had reached the door knob, I groaned. "Wait, Gerard."
He glanced at me with his hand still on the knob, inching it open as I gathered what I wanted to say next.
"I'm falling in love with you, Gerard," I confessed bluntly, my lips sealing shut and my eyes bugging out as I realized what I said. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame and looking at me like he's never seen me before.
Too soon. Wayyy too soon. What is wrong with me?
"I- I'm sorry," I apologized quietly, feeling like moving my face an inch down to drown myself.
Gerard inhaled sharply, steadying himself upright before shutting the door behind him. The echo from the shut felt like a slap in the face.
Why? Why was I so fucking stupid?
Just as I was about to make a shameless act of suicide, Gerard practically threw the door open and charged right next to the tub, getting on his knees and lifting my chin up to look him directly in the eyes.
"I'm-" I started to say, interrupted by an incredibly passionate kiss to the lips. I pulled out of the water slightly to bring us even closer, the hot breath from his mouth making me sweat in anticipation.
He pulled away, ending the kiss and leaving me wanting more.
"I'll be waiting for you," he purred, kissing my forehead and walking out of the bathroom without another word. I blushed and washed up quickly, wanting much more of what he only, literally, gave me a taste of.