Demolition Lovers

I'm Trying...I'm Trying..

A/N  Apologies are definitely in order. Not only has updating been slow, but I’ve sort of been ignoring this fic altogether, and I feel bad for that. I just now realized the amount of reads it has, and holy shit people, I love you. Almost 800! That’s a big deal to me! I’m sure some of you can relate to the emotional battle of high school, and so you can understand how I’ve just not been wanting to do much of anything lately. I might be starting homeschooling soon, within a few weeks…hopefully, and then updates should be more frequent, but I can’t promise anything. Thank you for waiting and reading, enjoy~ 

                [Bethany]

“Oh Gerard, y-you didn’t have to,” I mumbled, looking at the promise ring he’d bought me for Christmas. It was a real diamond, small, but real none-the less. The inside held an engraving that read:

Gerard&Bethany

                I liked the way our names flowed together, they sounded fitting to me. Like to pieces of a puzzle that snap in side by side perfectly, we just went together. I was sat in between Gerard’s legs as his family opened Christmas gifts, all smiles and happy tears right along with me. Mikey was staring straight ahead as always, forever trying to seem indifferent, but I knew from his eyes that he was happy for his big brother, they had a very strong relationship.

                “I did have to.” Gerard mumbled into my ear, kissing my neck sloppily from behind.

                “Ew, love birds keep it appropriate please!” Mrs. Way laughed with her husband, I think Mikey may have even cracked a smile at that one.

                “Okay…so what did you get me!?” Gerard squealed and I smacked a small present into his chest,

                “Are you five?” I asked sarcastically.

                He gave me a puppy dog look before saying, “Yes,” and kissing my nose, then he began to tear the paper around his present. He looked more shocked than I thought he would, did he not like it? He’d been asking for this special drawing paper or oil paper as he called it, which was, much different than a normal sketch pad, and more expensive. Silly me.

                “Beth!” He laughed and hugged me, burying his neck into my back, his breath warm on my neck and shoulder bone through the cashmere sweater Mrs. Way gave me, and insisted I put it on, ASAP. Truth was, the thing was one of those damn ugly Christmas sweaters, but hey, it was comfy.

                He then opened the smaller box that I wrapped up beside the sketch-no-oil-paper, it was some oil based pastel or something that he’d begged for every time we walked by the art shop near campus.

                “But Bethany!” He’d say, standing his ground in front of the display window, a sign advertising,

Oil based pants/crayons/ect 75% off!!!

                So one day I took Frank on a little shopping spree, picking up his present along the way. He’d opened it when he dropped us off before heading to his own home. It was a package of guitar picks, it wasn’t much, but he’d jumped about like a teenage girl receiving concert tickets, non-the-less. 

                “Thank you thank you thank you!” Gerard said, kissing me messily, not caring that his family was witnessing the exchange. Whenever we kissed, it was just me and him, him and I, Gerard and Bethany. Nothing would ever jar us apart.

                Except the massive heart attack that Gerard’s father would suffer on New Year’s Day. Death has its way of tearing people apart.