Phobia | Frerard

Atychiphobia

Atychiphobia

Noun

The fear of failing someone close to you.

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(a/n hi this was sitting in my docs for god knows how long so here it is finally, it's unedited and all that good stuff. have fun.)

3 Days Later

Frank stared at the ceiling. His vision focused and unfocused repeatedly, so much that he'd started making a game out of it, counting how many times the ceiling fan would become a blur and then return to normal. The bed beneath him felt like mush and the air around him smelled like must and hay. He hated when this happened. He could hear every sound within the house, the scurry of a cat, Ryan moving around downstairs, the soft hum of the TV. On top of that, Frank could smell every inkling that wandered through the room, feel very temperature humanly possible at the same time, taste every bad feeling in his mouth. It was a sensory overload, Frank had experienced this since he was little and it only happened when he was overthinking things too much. Right now was one of those moments, and suddenly, Gerard's sleeping breath beside him became unbearably loud.

Rolling his head amongst the pillow, Frank stared at Gerard. The only thing written across Gerard's face was a look of safety, for once he looked relaxed, content, comfortable. Frank wished he could've felt the same in that moment, but something still felt so off. He felt ungrateful, especially after the amount of hospitality Ryan had shown them the past three days. Frank sighed anyway and brushed his knuckles over Gerard's face. Gerard had opened the window earlier, the cold breeze flicked over Frank's bare skin and the moonlight shined through directly onto Gerard's body. He looked so beautiful. The sheets had ridden down all the way to Gerard's hips, completely exposing his bare torso as he lay on his stomach, giving Frank the ability to see his back rise and fall as he slept.

"I love you so much." Frank whispered so delicately and quietly, he could barely hear his own words. The breeze came through the window a little stronger, making Frank shiver, but he didn't want to get up. He didn't want to risk waking Gerard from the movement of the bed. Instead, he looked around the room again. It wasn't really even a room, it was an attic at the very top of the large house, an attic that also happened to have no air conditioning, but a conveniently place queen bed in the center, with ebony sheets and a duvet to match. 

But Frank wasn't complaining. It was liberating to lay in a bed again, especially with Gerard beside him. Again, Ryan's hospitality was unbelievable. The fact that he'd even taken the two boys in was astonishing to Frank. Although, Frank had thought Ryan was a little strange. The guy was very expressive when he talked, and God, those nails, Frank could hardly get over them. But Ryan was kind, and that was all that mattered. He'd sweetly shown them the attic, offered them sweatpants and tea along with some stress relief candles, then went along his way back downstairs. He was quite a character, just as Gerard had said.

It was 2am now which Frank had noticed from glancing at the clock on the bedside table, but looking back down to Gerard, he simpered with his knuckles trailing from Gerard's cheek and down the length of his spine. He couldn't sleep, not like this. Especially with Ryan's obnoxious laughing beneath the floor. There was something that made Frank think that Ryan had a small dislike for him, not matter how kind and welcoming the manicured boy seemed to appear. Little things made the dislike stand out, such as at dinner when Frank tenderly wrapped an arm around Gerard's waist and all Ryan did was glare holes through Frank's skull. Or when they had watched a movie earlier that night and Gerard took it upon himself to lay on Frank's chest, Ryan again looked as if he were stabbing Frank with an imaginary lightsaber. It was annoying, but Frank kind of understood it.