romeo & juliet ; f.g

chapter eight,

sry that this one is shorter idk i didn't know what to add to it, it just got sad but it needed to happen lmao 

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"so, wha' happen t'that boyfriend of yours, lovely?" gerard asked, his knuckles now bandaged and clean.

"what about him?" 

"well, sweetheart, ya' can't go around tellin' people we're dating if ya' got a boyfriend." gerard scraped some dirt off of his shoe, and flicked it out the window, before looking up at frank, who was blushing. 

"he broke up with me," frank replied quietly, and gerard narrowed his eyes.

"did he hurt ya'?"

"no! no, he didn't hurt me, we just had different opinions on some things, like if i should wear skirts out in public, he was pretty uptight," frank said, and gerard nodded.

"as long as yer okay." frank blushed, smiling at gerard cutely. he stood, moving from the desk to the bed where gerard was sitting. gerard pulled frank onto his lap, the two connecting their lips gently.

"frankie? i heard voices, is dallon with you?" the bedroom door swung open, and frank's mother walked into the room, stopping in her tracks when she saw the boy her son was kissing. she knew instantly that he was not from this part of town. 

frank lept away from gerard, slamming his back painfully against the edge of the desk. "hi, mom." 

"frank, who is this?" she eyed gerard, staring at his scuffed boots, and trailing her gaze up his blue jeans and white tank top, (which had blood splattered on it,) his bandaged knuckles, and finally, his greased hair. 

"hello, ma'am, i'm gerard," the red-head stood, offering her his hand. she wrinkled her nose at it. 

"get out of my house, right now, and don't come back." 

"mum, what?" she sent frank a glare, and frank shrunk. 

"right, okay. c'ya, sugar," gerard said, walking past frank and his mother, and out the door. 

"mum! what the fuck was that?" 

"frank! language!"

"fuck you, that's my boyfriend, you could've just shook his hand!"

"frank anthony iero, that is a greaser! in my house! just wait until your father hears about this," she said, and watched as frank began to cry. "stop your blubbering. this is all because of what you wear, those skirts-"

"no, mum, gerard is good! he's a good guy!"

"shut it, frank. nobody from that side of town will ever be a good person. you'll not speak with him again."

"no-"

"it's bad enough that you've had him in the house, frank. just leave it alone," she groaned, rubbing her temples. "just- just leave it alone." 

she left the room, and frank screamed into a pillow, crying violently. he missed gerard already.