Fake Your Death

Chapter 4

/Gerard's pov/

I couldn't fucking help it.

I had kissed him.

He probably hated me now.

I wouldn't know however, because I was hiding in the bathroom like a five year old.

Did Frank even know I was gay?

No.

Am I taking to myself?

Yes.

Have I gone insane?

Definitely.

I heard the front door open, then a moment later close.

I guess he left.

Not that I was surprised.

I figured it was probably safe to leave the bathroom now but I didn't.

I stayed there, knees to chest, eyes red and puffy from tears that I hadn't even noticed, sat on the cool tile floor.

I probably would've stayed they're for the rest of the night, or the rest of my life, but after about twenty minutes there was a soft knock on the door.

"Gerard... can I come in?"

His voice was small and timid.

I hated for him to sound so scared, it didn't suit him as well as the loud and obnoxious kid he was such a long time ago.

But that's not how people work, you can't ignore what you don't like and expect things to be okay.

That's not realistic.

The human heart is glass manufactured with a single hairline fracture that spreads and spreads until it shatters completely.

And it killed me to know that, because when I saw him again today, I could see just how much more damaged that glass heart of his was then when I left four years ago.

"Gerard?" He said again in the same scared tone before slowly opening the unlocked door.

He walked in and sat down beside me, his clothes smelled of tobacco smoke.

A habit I had introduced him too.

I regretted that the first time I learned what smoking did to your body. If I fucked up my lungs then so be it, but if I fucked up his as well, I don't know what I would do to myself if that happened.

But it would've been hypocritical to tell him to quit, wouldn't it?

My thoughts were broken up by Frank resting his head on my shoulder.

"I really like you, Gerard..I thought I'd never get to say that.."

"I like you too, Frank...but I guess you already figured that out.."

After that we just sat in a comfortable  silence for what seemed like years.

Frank stayed at my place that night.

We didn't talk much, like we were both afraid to break the calm aura that seemed to fill my small apartment.

Through the silence however, we seemed to make a unspoken agreement that I would go back to Jersey with him, even if just for a while.

By morning tickets were booked and we left the following night.