FicWad

“That’s it. We’re leaving until they do.” Gerard says with anger. That can’t be good news...
“Oh, Honey, please stay with us, it’s only another half an hour...” His mother pleads with him to stay home and keep calm.
“No, Donna. I'm off. Donald has taken one step too far now and I don’t like his point of view. Until you, him and Mikey go, I won’t be here and I'm taking Frank with me.” He explains, words full of anger and hatred.
“Oh, Gerard. What has he said to you now?” Donna pushes.
“I'm no way gonna say it around Frank, I’ll shield him from Donald. No, ask HIM – it’s HIS FUCKED UP BRAIN.” Oh shit, this got serious.
He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room furiously, stomps out to a room, busts the door open and in there sits his dad – looking almost as fuming as his son does.
Suddenly, Gerard grabs my waist, swings me round and locks his mouth on mine without warning. Obviously, this is to prove a point to Donald – what his point it, though, I'm unsure of; I was never enlightened on this subject.
This kiss was locking lips, no more; although we held it for a while, it was nothing special. I blinked my eyes open during it for a second, just to know what was happening and the strangest thing was there – sure it was Gerard but it wasn’t MY Gerard, this Gerard wasn’t passionate in kissing his lover, he was determined to make others see his view and agree with it – and if they didn’t agree, this sight would enrage them.
As soon as my eyes flicked open at the end of the ‘kiss’, Gerard’s dad was standing and advancing, looking lethal and raging.
Gerard leads me out to his car quickly, running through his house, hand in hand. He unlocks his car and tell me to get in it and I do just that, not wanting to piss him off any further.
The engine starts up quickly and we’re off within a heartbeat. The radio comes on but he slams It off.
“God, I'm sorry, I can’t deal with him when he’s being a dick, honestly.” Gerard apologises.
“Hey, it’s fine, parents are stupid. They do stupid stuff and say stupid things.” I try to comfort him, although I'm positive it won’t work.
“Ugh, you don’t even know the half of it.” He tells me, if only he would tell me more, it’d be so much easier “But, I’ not going to tell you that, I'm going to protect you from that monster.” Aw, that’s so sweet.
“You’re sweet, really. But if it’s bothering you so much, you’ll have to te me – I could help.”
“Nothing could help that old man. He’s truly awful.”
“You know what? Try to calm down, baby.”
“I’ll try.”
“Where are we actually going?”
“Away. From him. The river you said about?”
“Sure, go there. It’s kind of relaxing and calming.”
It’s a quiet ride; the only sounds are the engine roar and our breathing. Thank God that it’s not a long journey.
Within 5 minutes we pull up next to the river, it’s pretty sunny and hot so it’s a perfect setting apart from Gerard’s mood. Hopefully, this’ll calm him down.
We walk along the trail, through a little field and then out onto the rock that sticks out over the river. We sit down on the edge, feet dangling and swinging, holding hands – just like a coupe, although I'm still not sure whether we are or not.
We settle down a little; enjoying the sun and warmth, the slight breeze, the sound of the river rushing beneath us, each others’ company.
“I'm so sorry about that, I really am, I don’t think I could’ve controlled myself though. I'm sorry you had to see me like that.” He apologises again.
“It’s fine, honestly! Forget about it!” I don’t want it to linger and kill Gerard’s mood for the whole day – better to just leave it.
“You’re right.” Huh? A puzzled look must’ve shot across my face as he followed that sentence up with “About being here being calming and relaxing.” Ah.
“Yeah, I love it here, but I can only come in summer, which is shit.” I say, trying to more the conversation on from Gerard, his argument and foul mood.
“So, when we get back, what do we eventually eat for lunch?” then an afterthought hits him “OH SHIT! You’ve still not eaten since yesterday’s lunch have you!? Oh my God, will you be able to hang on for just one more hour?” He asks, suddenly upset with himself that he’d let me go hungry.
“I’ll be fine, I did have a little breakfast. I can survive for another hour at least.” I say, trying to get him out of this negative mood.
“Oh thank God. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I’d have let you starve.”
“No, I'm fine.” I turn to him, to look him in the eyes, inches away from him face “Don’t worry yourself so much” I go forward for a kiss, to tell him that I'm okay, that I don’t need words to explain if actions speak them for me.
He kisses back, a little hesitant at first [obviously from what his dad said about has impacted on his kisses] but as the familiar feeling of each other returns, he snaps back to normal and goes for it like every other kiss we’ve shared.