Cupid De Locke | Frerard

[23]

a/n: hiii ! this one's a bit short. god, there's not that long to go before the end...

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Frank's POV

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"Gerard. I'm so sorry about the way I acted the other week. I was horrible to you. We were both wrong, and- I just hope you can forgive me. I don't know what got into me; I just haven't been in the right place for a while. I'm sorry," I mutter into my mirror, my door locked so that my parents can't hear anything.

My nails dig into the palms of my hands as I ball my fingers into fists with anxiety. I'm going to go apologize to Gerard.

I slip on my denim jacket and creep downstairs, quietly opening and closing the front door and dashing to the end of the road as quickly as possible. Nobody can know I've left, as my parents have been led to believing that Gerard is a friend of the past, that I now hate him for who he is.
With my hands in my pockets and my eyes bolted to the ground, I make my way over to his house, hoping I won't be told to leave on sight.

When I knock on the door, to my surprise, he answers. He's still in his pyjamas, despite it being midday, and his eyes are puffy and rimmed with pinks and reds, as though he's been crying. He just stares for a moment, without a word.

I stand there, keeping my eyes to the floor.

"Hi?" he says, finally.

"Gerard, I-" The words I've been trying to say for so long have seemingly slipped away.

"Please, if you've come to apologize, don't even bother," he huffs.

"A- and why's that? Do I not get some kind of second chance?" I stamp my foot in protest.

"I don't think so, Frank. Do you remember how you acted that day? You were fucking awful to me for absolutely no reason!" he spits. "I don't even know what I did wrong. You ever consider how I might have felt?"

"No, seriously, I can explain." I look down at Gerard's hands to see that he's twirling a match between his fingers. He's clearly just as nervous as I am in this situation.

"Oh, really? Want to give it a try, then?" he retaliates sarcastically.

"If you'd just let me, I could."

"Right, sure." He rolls his eyes at me and leans against the door frame.

"Stop it! I fucking miss you, alright?"

"And I miss you too." He shifts his eyes to the floor, trying not to make contact with mine. "But we can't go on like this. Hell, I can't even remember why you were even shouting at me, Frankie."

"I- It was my fault," I finally blurt out. "I don't really know why I did it... I haven't been in the right headspace for weeks. Maybe we were both in the wrong, I guess, but I shouldn't have acted that way towards you at all-"

"Shut up," He interrupts.

"Please, baby, what's the matter? Let me just explain myself already."

"I just don't know what's going on anymore."

"What do you mean?" I inch closer towards him.

"I mean- what's wrong with you? What do you mean, you've 'not been in the right headspace'? I don't get it."

"I don't know. I don't understand either. It's hard to explain."

"Come inside," he says, all too aggressively. He lets me through the door and leads me into the living room, where we sit on the leather couches opposite one-another in complete silence.

"I need you to explain to me what's happening," he utters sternly.

"With what?"

"Like- how the fuck did we end up fighting back a few weeks ago? Why did you snap at me like that?" He runs a hand through his hair. "I just want to know why you've been like this."

"And why did you drag me in here to ask me all this?"

"Because- because I love you. I just want to listen to you, okay?"

"Okay," I say. "I don't really know what's wrong with me. I've been hearing all these things around me, like something outside of my own mind. I guess it's been happening since we first met."

"Oh, right..." He seems confused- scared, even. "Are you gonna get help? It sounds pretty bad, I- are you sure you're gonna be alright?"

"I'm gonna leave it. My parents will probably say it has something to do with the devil. I don't want that. I'm just scared," I admit. "I- I think it's what might have caused our argument. I must have gotten too caught up in it, or something. Nothing felt right."

"So this is something wrong with you? I thought you said I did something wrong?" His expression switches back to an angered glare.

"Well, no- I don't know, I just-"

"You know what, we should just fucking forget about this." He shrugs. "Maybe you're right. Maybe somehow, we were both wrong."

I'm slightly shocked at his response, seeing as though a few moments ago, he was reluctant to let me apologize at all. "Really, you're just gonna let it go? I thought you-"

"It was just a dumb little argument. I want to make sure you're alright. But please let me know when you're feeling this way."

"Oh- uh, right."

I'm confused. Did he really just let what whole thing slide?

"I love you," he says, jumping onto my sofa and pulling me up to him.

"I love you too." I curl myself up against his side, wrapping my arms around him. I've missed this feeling so much while we've been apart. "Sorry I was so pissed at you, baby."

"It's okay. Let's not bring it up again."

He wraps me in his arms and strokes the back of my head comfortingly. I'm instantly filled with a rush of warmth; a buzz of happiness. "God, I really have missed you." He kisses my forehead.

"I've missed you too. It hurt so much, not being able to see you."

"I think I cried more than I should have, to be honest," he murmurs.

"I'm so sorry, Gee. I'm here now. You don't have to worry now, I promise."