Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > 100 MCR oneshots

7 Different Shades

by x_Charlie_x 6 reviews

Brown, Blue, Pink, Grey, Green, Red, Black... You #11- 7 Different Shades (slash) NOTE: not too sure on the rating, it's stuck on G... apologies if it's not right

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Angst, Drama - Characters: Frank Iero, Gerard Way - Published: 2007-07-17 - Updated: 2007-07-17 - 1515 words - Complete

7 Different Shades

The colour of your eyes. Not amazing chocolate brown or brown with green streaks of anything over whelming. Just normal brown eyes. It's a wonder then that the first thing I fell in love with was your eyes. Those 'ordinary' eyes, the ones that weren't so normal when you looked closely. Not when I could watch your very soul dancing through them. They hold such life, your eyes. I used to love seeing myself reflected in them as you held me close, far too close as we were only supposed to be friends. It didn't bother us though. We were happy just being us.
It also reminds me of the day you fell over into the huge muddy puddle. You were drunk and fell out the van in your haste to get out and get to the service station for a 'sobering' coffee. That was enough to put the rest of us in hysterics. When you stood up to reveal your new mud monster look it made us laugh even harder. You pretended to hate it but you loved the attention really. When I think about our van days this is the memory that pushes to the front of my mind. You looking so happy even though you're head to toe in mud. You smelt a bit afterwards though.

Like the sky. If we got really bored sometimes we'd just watch the sky together. I'd point out shapes in the clouds and you'd show off by giving them their proper scientific names. It didn't bother me though. I like it when you tried to teach me things, even though I always forget them 10 minutes later.
I always preferred the night sky with the stars and moon offering their feeble light. You preferred the sky during the day. You said it looked less eternal, less daunting and scary. You told me you preferred blue to black anyway. I laughed at you and called you a liar, if that was the case then why did you wear so much god damned black and not a touch of sky blue? You went out and bought a light blue shirt just to prove me wrong. You only wore it for an hour before changing back in one of you old shirts saying that I'd won and never to talk about that top ever again. I said you'd reminded me of a teacher in it. You threatened to put me in detention for being cheeky.

The colour of your cheeks when they're flushed with excitement. Especially when we've just come off stage. You'd look at me, you make-up unable to mask the glow, and I'd be reassured that we had made the right choice in doing this.
It also matches the colour of your cheeks when you first came on to me. You were drunk so I doubt you even remember it. Your cheeks were pink with excitement, lust and drunkenness. You came up to me and hugged me which wasn't too odd, especially as you were drunk. I was a bit drunk too but I remember it clearly enough. You pulled back from the hug just enough to look me in the eye then you leant down slightly and pressed your lips against mine. I kissed back for a second before waking myself up and escorting you back to the van (we were still in that rust bucket then) where you passed out immediately. It was the first time you'd gotten close to me beyond hugging off stage and I prayed that no one had witnessed it, and that you wouldn't remember it in the morning.
You look so much better with colour on your face. You're full of so much life, I don't understand why you make yourself look dead all the time.

That's the little murky area that lies somewhere between friends and lovers. Between loving someone and being in love with them. That grey area we both drowned in every time we kissed, fell asleep in each others arms, woke up pressed against the others body. We drowned in it and always seemed to come up for air at different sides of the pool. It's bleak and murky in there, but you can live in ignorance while you're submerged in it. It's when you get yourself out of it and look around that you realise where you are, where you're headed, and how different that destination is compared to every one else's who came under with you.
I guess you could say that grey area is where love and friendship overlap. One day you can be one, and the next day the other and that's Ok. Until the day you realise that you and the other person involved are walking in different directions. Don't get me wrong I wanted the same as you, just we always seemed to miss each other. On the days that you'd be willing to spend hours convincing me that we were meant to be I'd be happily convinced that we were just friends and that was all we'd ever be, the next day you'd be dead set on friendship, making the change just as I realise that yes, we were made for each other.

Jealousy. It was on both sides, don't you forget that. Oh those days when our heads were empty of grey ignorance and we were looking in different directions you tried your hardest to alter my gaze using the tool of jealousy and you know it. Getting close to a long line of guys and girls, all in the name of provoking a reaction. I'd be too busy convincing myself that I didn't care to give you one, until I realised that I was in love with you and of course by then you'll have decided that we're just mates and wouldn't give a toss whether I was jealous or not.
I didn't do anything to make you jealous on purpose. I definitely didn't get with any other guys. I'm not gay you see, it's just you, you're the only one. Anyway I know you were jealous of my very heterosexual relationship. I could tell by the way you looked at her to the way you took an immediate dislike to her even though you should have got on really well with her. Maybe the biggest cause for you jealousy was the fact that she was able to give me everything you couldn't, a small piece of stability, a relationship that wouldn't be frowned upon, a child.
I didn't mean to make you jealous.

Most commonly associated with anger. It reminds me of the night you completely lost it with me. We were home and my girlfriend had just left to go back to hers. You were crashing at mine for a while. You started shouting and throwing things about. Your broke one of my guitars. Turns out I'd said something to her that you'd said to me. I'd repeated it word for word. I apologised but pointed out that you'd probably stolen it from somewhere else yourself. You yelled at me that it was from one of our songs, one of the ones that never quite made it onto a CD, a song you'd written about me that had caused the guys to pester you for months about who the 'lucky girl' was who had won your affection. I don't know why but I just went cold. I called you a fag. You hit me. I know I deserved it. There was blood, a lot of it. I sat down on the floor just gazing at it all. It was al over my hands, trickling into my mouth as the cut was on my lip. You cradled my head in your arms saying sorry over and over and I said me too in the same fashion. We fell asleep there, a tangle of arms and legs in a pool of tears and blood.
Things were never quite the same after that though were they? I think you realised we'd never actually go anywhere, and I realised that I love you but I loved my girlfriend more. I just wasn't gay enough, sounds stupid I know, but it's true.

The colour I imagine your heart to be. Burnt, broken, bitter. All because I fell in love with someone else. Someone you hated by default. We're still friends, we're still band mates. Heck sometimes we go all out and kiss sometimes. It's not how it used to be though is it? There's no sweet words, no cloud watching, no secret hand holding, no mud monsters, no watching our reflections in each others eyes. Just frenzied kisses after arguments off stage, and random displays of affection on stage because we can get away with it then. Everyone assumes it is just part of the show and if we want we can hide behind that too.
I'm not in love with you but I do love you.
Black, allied with death. The death of a relationship that never was, never will be.
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