Parisian Hearts // Frerard

2

The sun was just creeping over the horizon when Frank awoke. He looked down at the sleeping man on the floor, rolling his eyes. Sleep had always fascinated Frank; It was the vulnerability that came with it. You were in a whole other world, oblivious to anyone watching on. It was so intimate, it almost felt like an invasion of privacy to watch someone sleeping, because they had no control over how you saw them.

But Frank kept those sorts of thoughts locked away. You did to much shit to get caught up in the little things in life, and to ponder philosophy. The moment you become self aware, you slowly lose your sanity. So just cover it up. It had worked wonders for Frank.

"Get up," He said, swinging his legs over Gerard so he was standing over the Frenchman. "I want breakfast. I have morning patrol."

Gerard rubbed his eyes, taking a moment to adjust to being awake. Lazily, he pointed a finger in the direction of the kitchen. He didn't appreciate being woken up, but he wasn't going to argue with a Jerry. Not one that had a gun somewhere in close proximity. Gerard also had a gun in close proximity, but that was hidden away in a roof panel. Pulling that out would be a death sentence in itself. 

"Just head out, I'll be a sec." He rubbed his eyes, forcing them open, greeted by a gruff expression on Frank's face. He seemed unimpressed by Gerard's lack of action, letting him know with a laboured sigh. The german spun on his heel, stomping out to the kitchen.

It wasn't like Gerard could keep his new housemate waiting, so he rolled off his makeshift bed, onto the cold hard floor. His outfit was more or less in tact, but it's not like it was at the top of his priorities with everything going on. He scanned the room, looking for anything that might hint at his work. The room's dim lighting made it hard to see anything other than the silhouettes of the furniture and clutter strewn across the room. It was far-fetched to think that Frank wouldn't have seen anything Gerard could, but luckily there was nothing conspicuous in plain sight.

He'd get Mikey on it with him when Frank left for his soldier duties, finding new hiding places for things and changing locks.

When Gerard got to the kitchen, he found Frank fumbling inside one of the cupboards, his brow furrowed. Immediately, Gerard thought he'd found a gun, or poster, or something stupid that was illegal. 

"Fucking fuck." Frank's head collided with the top of the cupboard, making the crockery shelf rattle from the impact.

"You alright?" Gerard asked tentatively. He wasn't sure quite what to do. He didn't want to get too close to Frank in case he found something and he'd have to run.

"No, I'm not alright. get some fucking ice." His hands were empty, one clasped to the back of his head, so Gerard assumed he hadn't found anything incriminating. He opened the ice chest, the awkward layout of the kitchen making the task much harder than necessary, grabbing a handful of crushed ice-cubes. 

He wrapped the ice in a tea-towel, passing it to frank, who'd taken up the least shaky chair at the dining table. "You know how to use it." Gerard mumbled, pressing it to the egg developing under Frank's mop of raven hair. Frank grabbed the towel, shoving Gerard's hand off it.

Gerard rolled his eyes, holding in a scoff. "no, you're welcome, it was nothing, make yourself at home." It was quiet enough that Frank couldn't hear his disdain.

Gerard went about the rest of breakfast. He didn't really have enough food to feed three people, seeing as him and Mikey were already permanently under-fed. He spread the tea-leaves thin, not bothering with milk. There wasn't much cheese, and even the small amount in the chest was starting to sweat. The bread was the only source and food he and Mikey could rely on to not upset their guts, and that was getting harder and harder to come by with the rations getting stricter almost every month.

He almost threw the mug and plate in front of frank, collapsing into the seat across the table from him. 

"Don't tell me your tired. You woke up all of twenty minutes ago." Gerard would have made a jab back at Frank, but he was right. His eyes were sunken and his back ached when he stood for too long. Mikey said it was the stress and malnourishment, and he was probably right, too. It felt like Gerard had lived the life of a coal-miner, not that of a nineteen year old. His face was youthful at first glance, with pixie-like features, but his eyes and hands were old.

"I'm fucking tired too." Frank looked Gerard in the eyes, and sure enough he saw an old soul staring at him. It didn't sound like a plea, though. It sounded tough.

"You could've slept for longer, the birds are all still sleeping." Gerard prodded at the sandwich in front of him, his tea still untouched.

"They've killed all the roosters." Frank said with nonchalance that made Gerard's skin crawl. He wanted to correct him to we, because Frank was with the side that shot all the poultry when food got scarce, but he bit down on his tongue. "Besides, I have patrol at 7. Need to get ready."

Patrol was a nice way of saying paid terrorism. The soldiers would march around the streets of Paris, heavily intoxicated doing whatever they pleased. Apparently they were looking for criminals and traitors, but they were really just looking for some poor french girl, or an excuse to be trigger happy.

"Stay home and fix up the house. It's falling apart, and kind of gross." Gerard glared at Frank, who remained ignorant to him. 

Who did Frank think he was? He comes into Gerard's house, makes him turn his life on it's head to accomodate a fascist who thought he could just march into France, and then just insult him. Each day it got harder for Gerard to tolerate the soldier's he passed in the day. Their anti-semitism, homophobia and horrible treatment of the french made him feel like a second class citizen in his own home. 

"I- sure. Course I will." He hated himself for not standing up to him, but he couldn't just throw his life away like that. He had Mikey to think of, and he'd wind up in a camp without his older brother.

Frank had at least seemed tolerable yesterday, but today he was acting like the rest of the German troops. 

The german's chair screeched against the floor as he stood up from his breakfast. His plate and cup were empty. He didn't bother to put them in the sink, instead walking quickly down the steps to the basement, leaving Gerard to clean up.

"Don't come in, I'm getting dressed." He called up, Gerard just huffed once more, balancing the breakfast aftermath on his forearms, running some water into the sink, to wipe down the plates and mugs. He decided to leave them on the bench to dry, waving a lone fly off of Mikey's serving.

He collapsed once more at the kitchen table, letting his eyes flutter shut. Even if it was going to be brief, he was going to get all the rest he could. His mind began to wander, but he stopped it before he could do any real thinking. Instead, he replaced his internal dialogue with the first song that came to mind.

"Say it's only a paper moon, sailin' over a cardboard sea

 But it wouldn't be make believe if you believed in me,"

"Sounds cute." Gerard's eyes snapped open at Frank's comment, a blush creeping up his neck. "I'm off," He patted the bag slung over his should, turning away from Gerard to reach the doorknob. "Say hi to your brother for me."

When the door swung shut, Gerard put his head in his hands.

How on earth was he going to live like this?

A/N

hello readers,

the second chapter of my fic has arrived *audible gasp*

off camera voice: bold of you to assume anyone has read this or if they had actually wanted to read another chapter

if my assumption was correct thank uuuu

and if not idc how can i make you like me lol.

song i'm listening to: when the war is over by cold chisel

xx la.