*Just a title change* Frankie's always been there to make everything okay for Gerard. But now Frank's the one in need of comfort.
Anytime Frankie told me this, it was true.
When we were seven and I had to get an injection for my allergies, he had me close my eyes so I wouldn't have to see the needle I fear so very much. By the time I had counted to seventeen, the needle was out and everything was okay.
When we were 14, Frankie had me close my eyes so he could have extra time to dab make up over his black eye that he didn't want me knowing about. By the time seventeen left my mouth, my eyes flickered open to find a flawless Frankie sat in front of me. At least then he let me pretend everything was okay.
But now, I'm beginning to question it's validness. After the third time of closing my eyes and counting, my little heart-broken Frankie is still crying in my arms. This isn't right. He collapsed into my chest an hour ago muttering something about his boyfriend breaking up with him because Frankie hadn't wanted to kiss the boy. My first instinct was to do what Frankie had taught me to do when things weren't okay. I closed my eyes, counted to seventeen, but when my eyes opened, a little bundle of sadness was still cradled in my arms sobbing his heart out.
This just isn't right. Everything is supposed to be okay now. Frankie has always used this when I needed reassurance that everything would be okay but- I just realised what I've been doing wrong. I'm not the one needing comfort today, my sweet, sniffling Frankie needs it more than I ever have.
"Frankie?" I whisper just loud enough to be heard. He pulls his face out of his hiding place of my chest and fixes his questioning, hazel eyes on me. I take a deep breath before continuing. I really hope this works.
"Close your eyes." He obeys.
"Count to seventeen." I can tell he is counting in head by the way his eyebrows are furrowed, an adorable habit he shows only when concentrating. I want to think twice, but I only have seventeen seconds. There's not enough time to even think once. I lean down and gently press my lips to the ones previously mouthing numbers. He freezes, which is a signal to stop. I'm so fucked. But before I can pull away, Frankie is kissing me more passionately than all the kisses in all the sappy romance movies Frank and I spent hours laughing at, put together. It's sweet and perfect and I never want it to end. But all good things must come to an end. Plus, it's far over the seventeen second mark.
Frankie looks up into my eyes, his now being clear of any watery sadness. He smiles in that undoubtedly cute way of his and cuddles back into my chest. Once he settles, I hear his content mumble of something he's said so many times before, but had never been so true.
"Everything will be okay."