School Hours (Frerard) [Completed!]

Chapter Twenty-Three - Do I Look Lonely?

Chapter 23

Gerard's POV

I release a small sigh as I grade the work I have in front of me, a barely passing grade. Then raise my eyes to check on the students that were currently sitting in my classroom. They were all properly working, some chatting as they drew, or asking for a classmate's opinion on a part of the picture.

Unconsciously, my eyes drift to that one special student in that class.

I watch his furrowed brow and the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth, very concentrated on his work. His black fringe covered his eyes, and from time to time, his free hand came up to scratch at the shorter sides of his head, seeming surprised as he found almost no hair there. It was obviously a recent haircut, not that I hadn't noticed from the second he stepped foot in the class today.

It still felt weird, calling him both my student and my ex-boyfriend.

I hadn't really spoken to him, aside from school stuff as if we had never engaged in any other relationship than student teacher.

Either he was doing a great job pretending, or he was over me quite quickly. Well, that's what I wanted... Wasn't it?

But Hell, even if he had moved on, I hadn't. My eyes still lingered on him when he walked into class. Fuck, I still love him. I'm still in love with Frank Iero, even if he no longer felt the same.

I had hurt him- I had hurt the both of us when I broke up with him, and I felt like I would hurt him even further if I tried to get close to him again.

Regarding the reason I had to break up with him, I still had no idea who the sender of the text was. All I knew is that they hadn't sent me any other message, and that they still hadn't told anyone about Frank and I's relationship, since I haven't been fired or arrested yet. Apparently, what this person was looking for was for me to leave Frank.

Well, you got it, fucker.

I force my eyes back down to my papers, continuing on to grade the next word.

I knew the kids were busy as heck with finals from almost every single subject, so I only made them turn in a final project a little over two weeks ago, and let them either study or draw whatever they wanted during my class.

Most of the students decided to draw, since they studied enough at home or other classes, which was fine with me, and of course I wouldn't grade their drawings, it was just so they would still do something class-related but also stress-free, which they seemed to appreciate.

As I was done grading all the works for the school year, I too decided to take some free time during class, and was sketching away on a stray page in one of my notebooks, half-heartedly working on a project me and my friend Gabriel were staring in the summer; nothing too serious, but a few nice ideas about a comic book had been thrown around in our conversations lately, and we decided to make something about them, start drawing some basic ideas for a few characters, plots, etc.

Once in a while, I glance up from my lines, and this time, movement catches my eye, and I can't help but watch from under my fringe as Frank rises from his seat and makes his way to the front.

For some reason, my heartbeat speeds up as we make eye contact: is he gonna talk to me? Maybe he'll casually slip a piece of paper my way with a note, saying he'd like to meet and chat about us or— Oh, he's making his way to the counter behind me, to grab some materials.

I scold myself silently.

Unable to help myself, I look at Frank over my shoulder, and, to my surprise, he shifts so he's also looking at me. Our faces remain expression-less, but I ache to see a hint of something on his face: hurt, pain, anger, sadness... anything. But he remains straight-faced, as though looking at me isn't hurting him as much as it is to me.