The Crazy Ones || Frerard

Five - You.

Frank

It became a thing.

It happened a lot where I would insist that I was cold and Gerard would let me lay with him. I was trying to make it not as obvious as it was that I just wanted to touch him. I probably should be praising myself for it, I haven't been able to allow such human contact in what felt like forever.

Though I was kicking myself because I had to lie about being cold to get the cute boy's attention.

It was weird how much I wanted him to be touching me, my own mother couldn't get close enough to touch me anymore and I've known her forever.

I've only been in this shitty place for probably around three months and I was allowing a weird kid with faded red hair and brown-ish, black roots hanging down from the top that dresses in crazy clothes that popped out in a crowd, to hold me and touch me whenever he pleases and there's no problem with it.

I think it was because he was slow and gentle and willing to take his time with me. Nobody else understood that I physically couldn't be touched or feel okay. Gerard gets it.

To an extent.

I still wasn't really talking about anything, I was just pushing myself to be better so I could leave and not be stuck here without Gerard.

He had relapsed a few times and I'm sure that's the only reason that he's even still here. He's better. Mostly.

Today was a really nice day, so, sick of staring at the blank walls, I went to the courtyard to get some fresh air.

I lay out on the pavement, staring up at the sky. I had been out here for a couple of hours now and I was honestly so much happier. The bright colors of outside were something I actually, surprisingly, missed.

I hear somebody clear their throat in an accusing manner, to which, I look in the direction of the sound. Gerard is stood, not far from me, arms crossed.

"Hey." I give a little wave and turn back to the sky.

"Don't you 'Hey' me! I couldn't find you and was worried sick." He lays next to me.

"Oh, sorry, you were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you." I say sheepishly.

"It's fine." He hums and bumps his head against my shoulder, "I just got nervous."

"Why do you care, Gerard?" I don't mean for it to sound so harsh, I genuinely just want to know. He looks at me weird, confused by the sudden forcefulness of my voice as I had to shove the words past my lips.

"Well, because you're my friend. If anything, you're my... My... Um... Best friend...?" He trails, worried that I would think poorly of this statement.

"You're my best friend too." I don't know why it stings me to let the words be free.

"Good." He mumbles, his hand brushing against my hand and making my stomach fill with butterflies.

"But... I don't get it." I shake my head.

"Don't get what?" Gerard scrunches his brow.

"Why do you care about a loser like me? Why do you like being around me?" I shake my head, "I don't get why anybody would ever care about some kid who can't get over stupid shit from the past." A loud breath runs over my lips.

"I care because you're amazing, Frank. You're proud of me. Nobody has ever been proud of me and nobody gets me like you. There's just something about you that's so captivating..." He seems to drift away into thought in the end.