I Don't Love You

Guaranteed To Blow Your Mind... Anytime

Day Four

I hear a groan escape my lips and lift a heavy hand to my head. "What the hell?" My head is throbbing and my back feels like someone beat me with a crowbar. I hurt all over, a dull ache that pulses through my veins like blood. Everything is blurry, even the blackness behind my eyelids. My thoughts are jumbled and vague and I can't honestly recall where I am or how I got here. God, what happened last night? Quickly, I review my body and surroundings. There are warm sheets beneath and around me, but the comforting cocoon does nothing to soothe the sore feeling all over. "Shit, my ass hurts..." I roll over and allow my eyes to open to narrow slits. The sunlight simply burns my eyes and I clamp them shut again, but not before I catch a glimpse of a figure beside me. Holy shit, who is next to me? They're not moving. Did I kill someone last night? After a second, I decide to give it another try and peel open my eyelids again. Who is...

"Gerard!?" I shriek. Not even in my deepest darkest fantasies would I imagine waking up next to him. Sure, two years ago I would have loved to wake up and see his burning hazel gaze as it met mine, a soft smile on his lips. But now, with the ache in my body and the throbbing in my head, Gerard's face is the last thing I want to see. I attempt to jump out of the bed, jump as far away from that dick I can get, but only stumble off the mattress, dragging the sheet with me.

Gerard promptly sits up on the bed, brushing a hand through his tangled hair and looking around, confused. "What the hell?"

"That's exactly what I wanna know!" I yell. My voice is too loud to even my own hungover ears, but I don't really care at this moment. "Where the fuck are your pants!?" He looks down at himself, realizing he's wearing only boxers, and realization and panic play across his features. He's wide awake suddenly and he does not look happy.

His gaze moves to me, nostrils flaring, eyes wide, as he grabs the remaining blanket, pulling it over his lap. "What the hell did you do, Iero?" He demands furiously.

"Me?" I ask, outraged. "What did you do!?"

"You're the one in my bed, you faggot!" Oh great, we've reverted back to petty insults. Gerard's eyes look like they're about to pop out of his head and it only now occurs to me how gorgeous he is when he's angry.

I immediately push the thought away, remembering I'm the subject of his anger. "Well you're the one without any pants, you pervert!"

"So you're wearing pants?" He asks, doubt and irritation evident in his voice as he narrows his eyes at me.

My heart nearly stops and I realize I don't even want to know the answer to that question. I take a breath, hesitant, but as I reach down to lift the sheet, something catches my eye and pants are the last thing on my mind.

Gerard notices at the same time I do and I hear his angry voice demand, "Is that a fucking wedding ring?" I pull my eyes away from the ring on my left ring finger to look at him, his panic matching my own and the imperative question resurfaces again. "What the hell happened last night!?"

...

"Don't fucking touch me." My jaw clenches and I narrow my eyes at Gerard. He simply rolls his own, choosing to ignore my command. He grabs my hand and proceeds to tug on the ring around my finger. He grunts in frustration when it doesn't budge. "I told you, dumbass. It's stuck."

After the initial shock of seeing the ring on my finger, Gerard and I were both equally disgusted and angered to find a matching one on his. They were simple rings-- Thin silver bands. Nothing too extravagant or flashy, but they stood for something so much deeper that neither of us wanted to delve into. In an attempt to erase the fact completely, Gerard immediately ripped the ring from his finger and threw it into his nightstand drawer; Problem forgotten. No ring, no marriage, right? But my problem solving wasn't that simple, especially when we discovered that my ring was too small and therefore stuck on my finger.