Cotton Gloves (Frerard)

2

She cares for me like nobody else. She loves me and I love Her...

Right?

***

I woke up to Her, curled up next to me. It's been two months since I asked Gerard to leave.

- Sugar? - She yawns, - You awake?

- Yeah.

I smile at her. A fake smile but she deserves all the most genuine smiles in the world.

I don't deserve Her. She's so sweet and so nice to me. 

Do I love her, though? I'm not sure. I feel like I pretend, but even then, she's good company.

I don't love Her. I may have once, but not now.

- Sugar?

- Yes, dear?

She giggles.

- I meant, do you want sugar in your coffee?

Ah.

- Yeah. - because at least something has to be sweet in my life.

- Why are you sad? - she moved closer, eyeing me, worried.

- I'm not sad I just woke up. - I lie.

- I know you don't love me, Frank.

Wow, so sudden.

- What makes you think that?

-  You talk to Gee. You apologize to him every day. Did you think I'd miss that?

- Then why didn't you leave? What makes you stay? Don't you care? - I... bombard Her with meaningless questions.

- That's the problem. I do care. If I left you'd go look for him. He told you not to, but being the stubborn fucker you are, you'd go insane looking for him. - She pauses for a moment - Now I'll go.

- Will we stay friends? - another one of those cliché rhetorical questions.

- Yes, if you want.

- No. - I say.

She packs whatever she'd had here and leaves.

- Goodbye, Frank. I wish you'll find what you're looking for.

- I'm sorry.

She smiles at me, sadly.

- It's okay.

- Seriously, I'm sorry it ended like this.

- It's fine, Frank. This was meant to happen.

I am completely alone now. I can't help but think that I was unfair to Her. I'm sorry I couldn't learn to love Her. She didn't deserve this. I couldn't care less.

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