Parisian Hearts // Frerard

1

It's not that Gerard doesn't appreciate his surroundings; He just doesn't have the time or energy to take it in. The sky is a pleasant mix of orange and pink, and a fine layer of frost covers the old sandstone buildings lining the boulevard. It's a nice route to take home by anyone's standards. But Gerard finds himself in quite a nice place, at the wrong time. Blackout's s at 7, when the sun goes down.

And saying the sun went down five minutes ago is a bit of a stretch.

Before the war started, Gerard definitely would have made some sort of joke about craving an end to his feeble existence, but large-scale global conflict really put things into perspective. The prospect of getting arrested for being out after dark, and the death penalty associated with it, was not at all appealing.

Nothing was concealing him as he wove through the alleyways, leaving him alone with his thoughts to pray the soldiers on patrol are drunk enough to miss when they fire. The streets are growing more and more alien, as if each time he passes them another bomb's been dropped, or more innocent blood has been spilt.

Mikey's still at the university, finalising some of the flyers. Gerard's having conniptions racking his brain for some sort of excuse for his absence when he gets home. The houses lining his street are slowly becoming residence to German soldiers, in need of a place to stay while they terrorise the residents, and make life absolute hell for resistance agents like himself.

Gerard knows it's only a matter of time until he comes home to an occupied house. His neighbour got a fright yesterday when she found a soldier emptying her kitchen cupboards. If Gerard really wanted to continue his line of work without dying before his next birthday, a good first impression, with an action not punishable by death, would have been a good idea.

He turns down the alleyway leading to his back gate, checking for any guards lurking in the shadows. After giving himself the all-clear, he breaks into a jog, trying to shave a few minutes off of his ETA.

The wooden gate swings open, and Gerard steps through, onto the gravel path in his overgrowing garden. His house is small, a basement, a bedroom, a kitchen and sunroom, but it's home. It's enough for him and Mikey to be happy.

And there's also a light coming through the window.

Gerard walks up to the verandah, wrapping his fingers around the brass door knob. Opening the door, the kitchen looks more or less undisturbed. He steps inside, peering round the doorframe leading to the sunroom.

When their eyes first meet, Gerard isn't sure what to think. The pair of eyes staring into his almost mirror his own. They're a much brighter hazel than his, but they're weary and glassy. It takes a moment for Gerard to register that the man standing across from him isn't going to be thrilled at his arrival.

"You're late." The soldier heaved himself up off the lounge, moving closer to Gerard. "Curfew started 10 minutes ago." He cocked an eyebrow, asking for an explanation.

"Got caught out." Gerard replied, shifting his weight.

"In what? Hasn't rained in a week." When Gerard doesn't reply, the soldier takes it upon himself to keep the conversation rolling.

"I'm Frank. 8th battalion. I've been posted to this address, and you're expected to accommodate me." His french was heavily accented, which threw Gerard off. None of the other soldiers he'd had run-ins with even bothered to speak the language. They'd just bark angry german, and throw a punch if it was misunderstood.

"I understand you live with your brother?" Frank's face shifted again, into a very skeptical expression. 

"Yeah, Mikey." Gerard scratched the back of his neck, maintaining eye contact with Frank. "He's uh- staying the night with a friend." It wasn't the most convincing lie, seeing as Mikey had outgrown the whole concept of 'sleepovers' five or six years ago, and he and his brother weren't known as the most sociable people in town. Easy enough to work with, but none of the people they worked along side wanted much to do with them outside of the university.