The Punk and The Pastel {Frerard}

Chapter 5

(Hohoho)
Gerard's POV;
I was scared. Frank was gonna kill me. Blood was all over him.  I hid behind a building, shaking. But he found me. Knife in his hand, he approached me. I was up against a wall. Oh no. He pinned me to the wall. He was so close we felt each other's breathes. His smelled like booze and cigarettes, like last night. "Well looks like this sun will never shine again." He laughed evilly. My eyes began to water. I began to sob loudly. Next thing I knew I was being shook by Ryan. "Gee wake up! You're having a nightmare!" I opened my eyes to see Ryan looking concerned, for once actually. I looked at my pillow. It was covered in tears. I wiped my eyes. Ryan sat next to me and hugged me. For some reason, I began to cry again, on his shoulder. "It's ok Gee. I'm not gonna hurt you. What happened in the nightmare? 'F-F-Frank w-w-was g-g-G-gonna k-kill m-me..' Oh Gee, Frank would never do that. You don't like him, do you?" I shook my head. I hated Frank. I was scared of Frank. He seemed attracted to me. Why? I have no idea. I never wanted this. I looked over. Ryan looked slightly annoyed. I looked down. "I'm sorry Ryan.. 'For what?' You seemed slightly annoyed.. 'Nope!' Ok..." The TV turned on. For some reason the cops were at the school. Outside some people's dorms. Frank knocked on the door. I screamed and hid under my blanket. Ryan opened the door. "Cops busted me for alcohol. Need a place to crash." Ryan let him in. Oh heck no. I hid, shaking. Frank removed the blanket. Shoot. No no no no no. I quickly curled up into a ball and started shaking. Was I really having an anxiety attack over a stupid guy? I held my arms to shield my face. My eyes started to water. Great. Now I'm about to cry. I stared at him. He looked happy yet worried. "P-p-please... D-don't hurt me..." I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. He wiped my tears. "I'm not gonna hurt you, child. I got busted for drugs. I think you're too sweet and innocent to be hurt." He smiled sweetly. I looked up at him. He cupped my cheeks in his hands. I tried to avoid his gaze. His soft greenish-brown eyes would not let go of my eyes. "It's ok. I won't hurt you. 'Th-then why am I scared of you?' I don't know. Maybe it's because I'm a punk." No. He was wrong. It's because he likes me.