If These Walls Could Talk [Frerard]

5: Being Protective Is Being Friendly, right?

I opened the door in a fairly fast pace, trying to remain a little calmer than I was. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I assumed that was because of the running. I don't think I ever mentioned I didn't like sports. Sports aren't the easiest thing for me, I always end up on the ground somewhere and in pain somehow. The bleachers were also a place I liked to hide. Especially at the school pep games or whatever they're called, the mascot always loves to take me down. I swear, it's become some sort of tradition at Ridgeview. "Knock over the gay guy!" "Everyone applaud!" "His feelings don't exist, he's just a battering ram!" I could almost hear the people cheering.

Still, I brought my mind back to Frank. There he was, his grin plastered across his face in some sort of blithe expression written all over his face. I guess he was always like that, it just seemed that it was a little more relaxed and blissful now. He held the same textbook we'd used when he asked for my number, his bag lazily strung across one shoulder.

"Been such a long time, right?" he said in a joking tone.

I laughed, swinging some hair out of my face, "Yea, been ages. Shall we?"

I led Frank over to the stairs, warning him about Mikey and his conversation. Again Mikey wasn't an expert at conversation with others, as I was the person who talked to him most. Yes, he talked to Ray and Bob, but we were closer. After all, we were brothers. Frank didn't really react to this news, other than thinking of it as a chance to meet someone new, which I guess was good for him. More people he was comfortable with, meaning that he would be able to make friends, which meant that he wouldn't be so lonely. Not that I was mad with being his only real friend at the moment.

We ended up sitting in silence for a few dreadful seconds, my legs kicking slightly as I sat on the bed with my hands folded in my lap. Frank was sitting against the wall, his legs relaxed and resting in front of him while he fiddled with his black hoodie. I watched him, the way his fingers rolled the white string in his fingertips. The way that the hood fell over his face the slightest bit more while he studied the frayed ends of the string in front of him.

Eventually, I coughed in an effort to start the conversation up. Frank looked up and over at me, his face contorting into a confused look for a moment before realizing what I was trying to do. He shifted slightly, then freezing before deciding he was going to get up to grab something. I watched him with interest as he knelt down by his backpack, pulling the zippers apart before looking quite intensely for something within the black bag. He grinned to himself when he pulled out a book, a comic book, to be exact. He pulled out his iPod with it, shuffling with his tangled headphones before finally turning to smile at me with some sort of a puppy-like smile. I think I'll refer to it as Frank's corgi smile.

His jeans shuffled against the dull and beige carpet of my room until he reached the bed, hopping up to sit next to me. I looked between the iPod in his hands, a pure white case like mine, and his spirited hazel eyes. Frank then proceeded to hold his hand out, as if he was offering the iPod to me. It was my turn to make the confused face, Frank releasing a laugh when I did so.

"Look through it, there might be some songs you'll like."

I shrugged, grabbing it from his hands. It was already turned on, so I didn't have to do much except scroll through the seemly endless playlist of music. There were many, many songs from the Misfits, I noticed. A few times I would come across a band that I'd never heard of, and I liked to keep in tune with the music those days. I didn't take my eyes off of the small electronic device, but shifted my torso so I could ask Frank.