Chapter Eighteen; Reunited at Last

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"I love you too."

I looked up to see an angel. No, not a real angel...but an angel in my eyes. Gerard was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking at me with tear streaks on his face. My heart stopped. I couldn't believe it. He was standing not even three feet from me. He had thinned out over the years, but his hair was still pitch black and shaggy. Just how I remember it. He seemed paler, if that was humanly possible. He looked like he'd been to hell and back, but given recent events, it was understandable. 

And he couldn't have looked more perfect to me. 

I carefully set the picture I'd been holding back on the nightstand, and slowly stood up. He made no move towards me, he just stood there rooted on the spot, staring at me. He was breathing heavily, never tearing his eyes from mine. I wiped any tear streaks from my face, trying to make myself look slightly put together for him. 

I slowly started making my way over to him. How long had it been since I'd gotten one of his hugs? How long had it been since I smelled the familiar scent of mint, cigs, and on certain occasions whiskey? Too damn long. Six whole years. Six years of emotional foreplay, with phone calls, letters, and now emails. A picture here and there, maybe. It wasn't much, but it kept me going. The notion that one day we'd be reunited, kept me living. The scars on my wrists were still there, but not as visible as they once were. 

His eyes were watery, hesitant, and yet....warm and full of love. I stood right in front of him, and brought my hand up to touch his face. His eyes fluttered closed to my touch, as I traced every part of it. His brow, his lips, his nose...all of it. His hands finally moved to cradle my face. Tracing every inch of it as well. Running his fingers through my newly black hair, making me shiver in delight.

"You're real." 

We said at the same time. I wanted to laugh, but I was too overwhelmed with relief that he was in fact real. His eyes snapped up and he smirked at me. I melted right then and there. That smirk that wonderful, sexy smirk that made my knees go weak at 18, was making my knees go weak at 24. 

"Of course I am."

Once again we said the same thing at the same time. 

We cracked genuine smiles for that one. It was as if we'd never been apart for six years. 

"I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were too."

"Oh Gee."

I jumped on him, and he wrapped his arms around me. He smelled just like I remembered. Mint, and cigarettes. It was a perfect combination that could only describe him. He squeezed me as hard as he could, (without breaking me) making it seem like if he let go, I'd disappear. I felt the same way, I thought I'd lost him. I hugged his as hard as I could without breaking him in half. I wasn't going to leave his side ever again. I'd fuckin' quit my job, before I left him again. 

"I'm so glad you're alive Kayla."

"The feeling's mutual Gerard."

I felt him laughing as he walked over to his bed, and sat on the floor. Our backs pressed against the frame. I crawled off of him, but kept extremely close to his side, holding his hand. I wasn't going to let go. Ever. 

"I was on strict orders to come straight to my room by mom, dad, Grandma Elena, and Mikey. I'm glad I did."

"Me too."

"Kay?"

"Hmmm?"

"How did you....I mean...how did..."

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