Don't know how to rate it. Possible Frerard.
“What the fuck! He leaves the room for a minute and we find him dead!” Ray is stammering. No one knows what’s going on. Frank doesn’t do drugs. Frank doesn’t do anything to harm himself. He has no medical issues at the moment, and suddenly he’s dead.
They had tried slapping his face, they checked his pulse, and they poured water on him. Frank didn’t react. His eyes were shut. His chest didn’t rise. He was dead. Hot tears rolled down Frank’s face, dropping in streams from Gerard’s eyes. None of the men could bear to lose Frank. They were all in shock, helplessly trying to wake up a man with no heartbeat.
“C-call the paramedics,” Mikey choked out. They all rushed out of the room to clear their minds. All except Gerard. He didn’t understand, there was no blood, Frank wasn’t on any medication, he doesn’t drink heavily…
Gerard wiped his snotty nose on his sleeve, trying to blink the tears away, but they kept coming back. He worriedly looks at the door, but no one enters. Looking back at Frank, Gerard tenderly put his hands on porcelain face before leaning over and leaving a light kiss on Frank’s lifeless lips. He lifts his head from the kiss and sits helplessly with his eyes clenched shut, refusing to look at the corpse of his friend.
After a few minutes, he can’t stand it any longer and opens his eyes. Frank is staring back. He’s breathing. Not moving, but alive.