Folie à Deux (Frerard)

Chapter Nine - Gerard's POV

I'd been through a terrible bout of depression for a while, I still don't think I'm completely out of it, but things were slightly better, now. Mikey was still... Well, he was still the happy, but timid, little kid he had always been.

We walked on in silence and eventually both of my arms dropped from around Frank- to my surprise, he almost looked like he wanted to protest the lack of contact. I blinked a few times, trying to read his expression from the corner of my eye.

I stretched my fingers out, brushing the back of my his hand, and to my surprise he turned his hand around, sliding his fingers through mine.

It had been far too long since I had held someone's hand. My thumb stroked across the back of his hand, something I hadn't really meant to do, but something that Frank didn't seem to mind. He shivered slightly, pressing close against my side. "I'm cold."

"Me too. I think my mom was making soup though."

Frank licked his lips, nearly subconsciously, from the looks of it. "God, I love your mother's cooking."

I laughed. "One day I'm going to wake up and you're going to have just moved in."

"That's actually a good idea..."

I grinned, rolling my eyes. "What on earth have you been telling your mom?"

"A lot of things... On the weekdays she thinks I'm at the library doing homework, weekends she thinks I'm with my girlfriend."

"But you don't have a girlfriend."

He laughed. "That's why it called a lie, Gerard... But with the amount of attention you demand, I might as well be engaged."

"I do not demand attention," I protested.

"You do though! We can't go like five minutes without you doing something to make me look at you."

"Well, that's not because I like attention."

"Then why is it?"

I considered for a moment. "I'm not even sure. But it's not for attention. If I wanted attention I would dye my hair blue- that's why it's red right now."

"Really?"

"Yep. For attention... Just to stop being the kid in the back of the restaurant that no one ever looked at. But it's starting to wear off- no one notices because it's so familiar, now."

Frank tilted his head to the side, squeezing my hand. "Well, I notice. Isn't that enough?"

I laughed, coming across more bitter than I meant to. "I'm human, Frank. Humans are dirty creatures. We want the whole world to notice us. No matter who you are or how old you are, no matter how badly you blush when put in the spotlight, everyone secretly craves to be noticed. What would be the point in living if there was no one to put on a show for?"

He studied the side of my face for a moment. "Has anyone ever called you a genius, Gerard?"

I laughed again. "I've been called a faggot before, but I'm sure that they mean no where near the same thing."

Frank sighed, shaking his head. "I hate people who use the word. First of all, it's offensive. Second of all, you can't just tell someone's sexuality by looking at them."

I nodded, understanding what he meant. "Yeah..."

His eyebrows went up a bit. "Speaking of which..."

I rolled my eyes, chuckling slightly. Frank had been trying to pry my sexual orientation out of me ever since he found out that I wasn't 'straight.' "I'll tell you later."