Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > A Celebrated Man Amongst The Gurneys
Find Out First Hand What It's Like To Be Me (chapter 8)
3 reviewsOkay, I'm back! I hope you all haven't lost interest in this and that this chapter isn't as bad as I think! Ps, if anyone could help me with my 'POV' headings it woul be great! I don't know if they...
1Original
Gerard's POV.
The corridor was silent save for the beeping of machines around the building. Gerard supposed most of the patients were sleeping. When he thought about it, he did not know very much about the hospital he had lived in for the past year. Gerard had always hated hospitals; he hated the plastic, white, sterile floors, the constant smell of cleaning products and sanitizers; the feeling of being alone. Above everything else, Gerard hated being left alone, because alone meant thinking. The same thinking he had done for so long when he was back home, in his bedroom in the basement, alone and just thinking. Gerard never wanted to go back to that. He deliberately pushed all thoughts of those years out of his head; all the questions, the anger, the look in his little brothers eyes when he was taken away. His mind wandered, then, to a very different pair of eyes; light hazel and gold, and the expression just after Gerard had leaned over and kissed the lips of the same person. That had been impulsive, and most probably a bad idea, but Gerard had enjoyed himself for that 10 seconds more than he had in a long time. He smiled to himself, remembering the shocked look on Frank's face as he had pulled away. Gerard wondered if Frank thought about him as much as Gerard thought about Frank. He supposed it was unlikely. Although, Frank had been different after the kiss, and not in a bad way. It had relaxed him slightly; he laughed easier around Gerard, and was less awkward with bodily contact. Or maybe it was only Gerard who noticed their occasional hug lasted a few seconds longer than they used to? Realising 'not thinking' was a futile task, Gerard settled himself back on the bed, intending to do some more of it, but instead dozed into a light, dreamless sleep.
Frank's POV.
Gerard was pretty badly wrong in his assumption that Frank didn't think about him. Truthfully, he thought about him more than was probably healthy. Frank wondered if soon he would have to check HIMSELF into the hospital. He wasn't sure what to think anymore- besides Gerard, he couldn't think about much.
Frank didn't tend to like people. He had a few people he got along with well- he had friends, and he went out now and again. But despite being a psychologist, he really did not understand people. He could understand his patients- he could analyse them and help order their thoughts no problem. When he first met someone new, he would make a mental note of their mannerisms, of their quirks and they way they phrased things and almost create a file for that person in his head. After 2 meetings, Frank could write a character summary on a person. But that was all it was- a summary. A detatched, cold description of a person and how they reacted to situations. Emotions were what Frank was not good with. Ironic, for a psychologist. And his own emotions, above all, were the problem.
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands and looked at the clock. 3:00am. Another late night. Or was it early morning? Pondering this, he walked slowly into his bedroom, perching on the end of his matress to look out the window. From his window on the top floor, he looked out over the city surrounding him. His eyes caught onto the huge granite building in the distance. The hospital looked huge against the horizon. He imagined Gerard over there, asleep and alone. He had wanted to stay, but the head of ward was worrying for his health (and possibly sanity) and demanded that he go home. Once again, his mind was back to Gerard. Giving in, he lay back on the bed, expecting another sleepless night. He was asleep before the small alarm next to his bed ticked past 3:15am.
The corridor was silent save for the beeping of machines around the building. Gerard supposed most of the patients were sleeping. When he thought about it, he did not know very much about the hospital he had lived in for the past year. Gerard had always hated hospitals; he hated the plastic, white, sterile floors, the constant smell of cleaning products and sanitizers; the feeling of being alone. Above everything else, Gerard hated being left alone, because alone meant thinking. The same thinking he had done for so long when he was back home, in his bedroom in the basement, alone and just thinking. Gerard never wanted to go back to that. He deliberately pushed all thoughts of those years out of his head; all the questions, the anger, the look in his little brothers eyes when he was taken away. His mind wandered, then, to a very different pair of eyes; light hazel and gold, and the expression just after Gerard had leaned over and kissed the lips of the same person. That had been impulsive, and most probably a bad idea, but Gerard had enjoyed himself for that 10 seconds more than he had in a long time. He smiled to himself, remembering the shocked look on Frank's face as he had pulled away. Gerard wondered if Frank thought about him as much as Gerard thought about Frank. He supposed it was unlikely. Although, Frank had been different after the kiss, and not in a bad way. It had relaxed him slightly; he laughed easier around Gerard, and was less awkward with bodily contact. Or maybe it was only Gerard who noticed their occasional hug lasted a few seconds longer than they used to? Realising 'not thinking' was a futile task, Gerard settled himself back on the bed, intending to do some more of it, but instead dozed into a light, dreamless sleep.
Frank's POV.
Gerard was pretty badly wrong in his assumption that Frank didn't think about him. Truthfully, he thought about him more than was probably healthy. Frank wondered if soon he would have to check HIMSELF into the hospital. He wasn't sure what to think anymore- besides Gerard, he couldn't think about much.
Frank didn't tend to like people. He had a few people he got along with well- he had friends, and he went out now and again. But despite being a psychologist, he really did not understand people. He could understand his patients- he could analyse them and help order their thoughts no problem. When he first met someone new, he would make a mental note of their mannerisms, of their quirks and they way they phrased things and almost create a file for that person in his head. After 2 meetings, Frank could write a character summary on a person. But that was all it was- a summary. A detatched, cold description of a person and how they reacted to situations. Emotions were what Frank was not good with. Ironic, for a psychologist. And his own emotions, above all, were the problem.
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands and looked at the clock. 3:00am. Another late night. Or was it early morning? Pondering this, he walked slowly into his bedroom, perching on the end of his matress to look out the window. From his window on the top floor, he looked out over the city surrounding him. His eyes caught onto the huge granite building in the distance. The hospital looked huge against the horizon. He imagined Gerard over there, asleep and alone. He had wanted to stay, but the head of ward was worrying for his health (and possibly sanity) and demanded that he go home. Once again, his mind was back to Gerard. Giving in, he lay back on the bed, expecting another sleepless night. He was asleep before the small alarm next to his bed ticked past 3:15am.
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