The Hue of Autumn is Blood (Frerard)

Chapter 9 - Boy Berry Kisser

Blended Boy Berry Crush fell from Gerard's hands to the oil paint stain floor, spilling the red smoothie around their platform boots and the tips of their vampire cloak.

And they couldn't fucking care less.

Frank was back. He was fucking back and stood a few feet in front of them.

At the centre of the circle of easels, Frank stood next to the red velvet plinth on which a life model would pose during painting class. The autumn moonlight illuminated his vampire hunter attire: silver cross, stake and spell pouches attached to his belt, digital recorder in hand—though no amulet. Who knew they could hang around Frank without the fear of fainting from the stench of garlic.

Frank licked his lip ring—fuck, they missed that—and their fangs protruded over their lips. He laughed, "Hey, Gerard."

Euphoria short-circuited their nerves. Gerard's body denied their demands to move or use their vampire powers and they stared with eyes stretched so wide that their skin might detach from their skull.

Frank placed their recorder in his leather jacket pocket, "Gerard." He tilted his head, "Are you okay?"

The second time in Gerard's short immortal life Frank asked that question: are you okay? No, Gerard wasn't o-fucking-kay. The love of their life waited for them in the centre of the painting room and their body refused to move.

Frank rubbed his neck and glanced at his boots, "Uh... Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Every action they commanded happened at once. Gerard squealed as they misted in front of Frank, then misted and slammed into the opposite wall, indenting some poor student's still-life. Next, they misted into the photography studio, but, before Ray spoke, they misted on the grass outside the art rooms.

Gerard tried to change course, but misted to the rooftop of the history department, in the walk-in freezer of the cafeteria, the empty college park cark, the entrance of the freshmen's dorms, the second story of the library. Finally, after a few more attempts, they misted in a parallel corridor of the painting studio.

Fuck it—since their vampire powers threw a tantrum, they decided to move the old fashion human way. They bolted down the corridor and turned into another until they arrived back at their witch boy.

Frank spun and his eye's squinted, "Gerard... uh... you were flying... around." He pointed at various places Gerard misted in the room.

In front of him, Gerard panted and hunched over; their hands rested on their knees to hold them up. Even though they didn't breathe, running exhausted them so much, they didn't how else to react. How the fuck did humans run? It felt like the sport of the devil—not some sexy devil, but the disgusting evil devil that spited someone for glancing at them wrong.

Frank shuffled closer, "Gerard?"

Gerard straightened their spine and locked eyes with Frank. Their grin made Frank smile back.

The metal bats chimed on their platforms boots as Gerard bounced up and down and they flailed their hands in excitement, "Frankie, I'm so..."

Psyched? Happy? Thankful? In love? Gerard didn't know what to say since they felt every possible positive feeling to the extreme at once like their emotions would burst like a balloon any moment.

Frank smiled and licked his lip ring—fuck. It mesmerised them, "I'm sorry, Gee."

Gee. He never called them that before and it sounded so adorable when Frank said it. Tears dripped down their cheeks and splashed onto their bat boots. Oh no... were they crying over a nickname?