leATHERMØUTH -frerard-

Interlude 2

"You." I said, standing behind him.

He turned around, pressing his back to his locker in shock. His pink lips were parted just slightly and he made a small gasping sound. His tie wasn't done all the way up and it looked... okay. It looked nice. He always looked nice. He stared into my eyes, his cheeks going pink.

"F-Frank!" He finally uttered, "W-what are you doing?"

"Talking to you." I said bluntly.

He looked around and grabbed my arm, slipping quietly into the bathroom. He looked me up and down as if I were crazy for me coming up to him. Oh how the tables have turned. He swallowed and parted his lips like he had before. He clutched his textbooks to his chest.

"You," I said again, "I'd like to be friends."

"Gerard," he started, closing his eyes, "my name is Gerard Way."

"Gerard," I paused, "I'd like to be friends."

"You're very forward, aren't you?" He ran a hand through his hair, looking away, "I already thought we were friends, but I'm glad you asked me to be."

"Is that a yes?" I asked, smirking.

I had never smirked outside of my dreams before. That was new.

"Yes, Frank. I'll be your f-friend..."

He sounded almost disappointed, "Do you not want to be friends?"

"N-no! I just- it's- never mind." He sighed.

The bell rang and he sighed, "It's lunchtime."

"Where do you sit?"

"In here..." he sighed, again.

It was decided, "I'll sit with you."

"You don't have to do that..."

"But I want to. It's what friends do, right?" I asked, stepping closer to him.

"I guess it is." He smiled.

...

I sat down beside him, our thighs touching. He turned red and I just looked at him. I wondered what went through his head. He seemed like a lot was going on up there. There was a lot of things going on in mine.

A lot of things I didn't understand.

When I was around hi- Gerard, I felt strange. I always felt so angry and sad, but when I was with him, I felt calm and... happy. He made me smile.

I didn't know someone could do that.

"Frank, y-you're hurting me..."

I stared at him and looked down at my hand. I was squeezing his wrist. I looked away, yanking my hand to my lap, "Sorry..."

"Are you okay?" He asked, touching my arm slightly.

He was... scared?

No...

I shook my head, "I don't know..."

"Did somebody hurt you? If they did, I could always-"

"No. No one did. This time."

"Well then what?"

I thought.

What was wrong?

"I'm... I'm happy." I replied, vaguely, gesturing with one hand.

"Isn't that a good thing, Frank?" His hand slid down to the back of my hand.

I saw red marks from me squeezing his wrist. I felt sick. I never wanted to hurt him.