Chapter Eight - Frank's POV

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I woke up fairly early, considering it was the weekend. There was a dim light coming in from the window, but it was still raining, so it was hard to tell exactly what time of day it was for sure. I stared at the window for a few moments, hardly believing that I had slept through the storm. I shifted stretching my legs and, letting out a groan as I forced my eyes all the way open. For a few seconds I was too confused to function- I wasn't in my own room, and I most certainly wasn't in my own bed.

Everything smelt of cigarette smoke and my back was stiff from sleeping on the floor.

"Good morning."

I craned my neck to the side, meeting Gerard's hazel eyes.

He smiled a crooked, sleepy smile, that I returned, lifting my hand in a small wave. "Hi," I said tiredly, blinking a few times. "Good morning."

He laughed, eyes scrunching up in the corners, nose wrinkling slightly. "Hello."

I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, sinking back against pile of blankets that had become my bed last night. It wasn't the most comfortable bed in the world, but it worked. It kept me comfortable and that's all that really mattered.

Something touched my face and I opened my eyes as Gerard's fingers flicked a piece hair out from in front of my eyes.

I grinned tiredly at him. "Even in the morning, you're still concerned with hair?"

He shrugged, smiling back. "I'm always concerned with hair. I'll probably still be concerned with hair when I'm dead."

"Yeah? Well, you obviously haven't seen yours this morning."

"Oh, really? What's wrong with it?"

I studied his face for a minute, just shaking my head and laughing. Everything, just about, was wrong with Gerard's signature unnaturally red hair this morning. It was all tangled and knotted up, instead of framing his face like it normally did.

"Here." I reached over, dragging my fingers through it until it lay smooth, tucking stray strands of it behind his ear in a lame attempt to tame it. Some days I wondered how on earth he managed to keep it flat at all. His hair seemed to have a mind of it's own, sometimes. "That looks better. Kind of. When was the last time you washed it?"

He smiled, reaching up and running his hand through his hair, practically destroying my 'hard work.' "A few days ago... Well, more like a week. Thanks, though."

I laughed. "You're welcome."

Gerard reached over, doing to something to my hair again. "Yours won't stay down..."

"Don't worry about it. It normally won't in the morning, anyways."

He continued to mess with it for a moment before dropping his hand. "Is that your natural hair color?"

"Yeah."

He nodded. "Black's a nice color on you."

I smiled. "Thanks."

He just smiled back.

I tilted my head to the side, studying the tired look in Gerard's eyes and the way his smile faltered, quite obviously sleep-deprived. "You really stayed down here all night, didn't you?"

He rolled onto his back, making me cringe at the sound of hardwood floors beneath him. I had blankets and stuff to sleep on top of, and I wasn't even comfortable. How on earth had he managed to not just get up and move?

"Yeah," he said, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "It wasn't too bad, though. It's eight, now. It was just over four hours that I was down here, so..."

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