The inside of Bert's old blue Chevrolet truck
smelled like cigarettes,
and had to be a veteran of the 90's.
I was surprised that it was still
even running.
"First rule." Bert began,
Raised a finger,
"Give me the pills."
I didn't oblige.
He took them, and poured them out the window.
He looked back at me,
"second rule, if you feel bad, you tell me. I'll help you, not the pills."
I nodded,
even though I could be difficult at times.
But of course,
I didn't tell him this.
It would just frustrate him.
---
I gave no mind
to the inside of Bert's house
when we arrived.
It was just like the Chevy,
so I wasn't surprised.
He just
p u l l e d m e
and I
followed him.
Bert and I
sank
into his old
sheets.
The whole time
it was deadly quiet.
but even in that silence,
I guess there was a noise.
I guess that silence
was talking all in itself.
Bert smooched my face
so passionately.
So lovingly.
He was
dominating me.
I was hesitant upon
letting him
make love to me.
But Bert
had to learn love.
it was so contorted in his mind.
I wanted to teach him true love.
I need to teach him.
I think he was right.
He was fucking right:
"I love you." I blurt out.
He stops.
looks up at me.
His eyes are puffy
and red.
He was crying?
I sat up
on his lap,
And kissed his head.
"I love you."
I repeated,
"Don't you love me????"
He loved me.
I knew.
He told me before.
"I love you so so much Gerard," he almost came close to giving me anther kiss, " you're driving me insane."
I don't know why, but watching him fascinated me,
"That's what love is supposed to do to you."
He ran a hand
up my spine,
climbed
over me.
doing those passionate kisses again.
This room wasn't white.
It wasn't pure.
He wasn't pure.
But every inch of Bert
was so unfathomably human.
And what I saw in him was a form of heaven,
in his own, flawed, human,
deformed way.
YOU ARE READING
Sanity (Frerard)
Fanfiction"And what I felt was more than thumping. I felt his love for me. and I think he loves me with his soul too." .*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*. •Warning: Triggers • Drug Use • Soft Sexual Content • .*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.
