Once Upon A Dream ♡ Frerard

Six

Frank did not sleep that night. He kept himself awake, and every time he felt his eyes shutting closed, he would pinch his arm for the pain to help him stay alert. The skin on his upper arm was bruised, but nothing he could not hide with a long sleeve. Sweater and long sleeved shirts looked not at all suspicions in the cold winter, easily this would slipped passed his parents and Jamia. His poor abused arm ached and throbbed dully from all of the pressure exerted on it, but Frank had never been one to stay up all night with no trouble. He never wanted to.

Frank was not staying up because he felt the desire to - he was staying away from Gerard. As much as Frank hated not being able to see Gerard's beautiful face and feel the comfort of his presence, Frank could not bear to face him after what he had done the evening. Proposing to Jamia after kissing Gerard, it all seemed like foul play, and Frank felt like the lowest kind of filth for having to do all of this. But Frank kept reminding himself that Gerard was only a dream, it should not have affected him so much in reality. He was still puzzling over how he could feel so strongly for someone who was not there, someone who he could not even feel in his dreams.

Gerard acted so real in his dreams and had his own personality. Frank had no control over the boy nor did he ever try to take control of him, but it seemed like Gerard was as real as him or Jamia when it came to emotions and thoughts. Frank could not feel Gerard's touch, but everything was traits of a flesh and blood person. That was what entranced Frank, and that was what Frank had fallen in love with. Frank just knew that if things had been different and Gerard were a real person, they could have been happy together. But in this society and in these circumstances, it was impossible for Frank.

In those moments where Frank was over thinking, extremely exhausted and practically falling over as he tried to take a shower, he had never felt more alone than there under the running hot water, his tears blending in and falling down to the floor of the pristine white tub. A swell of sadness lay heavy on his chest like an unwanted pressure, slowing pushing his ribs against his heart. He could feel the pain of the organ being pierced, broken into tiny little pieces as if it were made of glass. Frank cried silently, curling into a ball under the stream of too-hot water and trying to keep himself from breaking out into hysterics. Fatigue made his bones feel weak and heartbreak was eating him alive. He missed Gerard, but he did not regret staying away from him last night

Gerard could not be avoided for long. How many nights could Frank go without sleeping? One night already made his brain feel disconnected from his body and his head too heavy on his shoulders. He needed sleep. Frank wished he could control his dreams more securely so he could find a place to appear in and hide from Gerard as long as he could. If they saw each other, Gerard would know something was wrong and some weasel the information out of Frank. Or worse, what if Gerard wanted to kiss Frank again? The one second where Frank had been able to feel the beautiful boy's lips had been the most blissful short moment of his life. Better than all of the kisses he and Jamia had shared combined. Frank craved the feeling of Gerard's kiss again because he had lost the lingering tingle of it on his lips.

When Frank finally pulled himself together and turned off the slowly cooling water, he dried his hair and wrapped a towel around his skinny waist. He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed then how thin he was becoming. Before, there was always a little bit of extra weight on his lower stomach and small love handles, but he was never fat. He enjoyed having a little weight so he would not be too skinny. But now, Frank could see his hip bones and the love handles were gone. If he sucked in his stomach, he could see his ribs poking out and creating the gruesome image of a skeleton with one layer of thin skin. Frank looked away from himself and changed into a pair of baggy black jeans and a black fitted sweater.

Frank's mother had asked him to make a quick stop at the local market and art store for her today. She was in need of tomato sauce and some paint for the painting she was currently working on. His mother was no professional artist, but she did enjoy making portraits with watercolors. Frank had not wanted to go out, but he also did not want to seem to suspicious by holing himself up in his bedroom all day either. So, shortly after Frank got dressed and brushed his hair, he left the house and walked a few blocks down to the market.