Demolition Lovers [[GERARD WAY FANFIC]]

Tattoos, Desperate Eyes, and Bullshit Lies

*I have decided that the picture above will be what Frank looks like in this fic. If this picture doesn't make you want to melt, then just stare at it for 10 minutes. Or if you're me, an hour, and then wonder why he isn't your husband. I mean just goddamn people...just goddamn*

-Beth's POV-

Frank. Ok so the person I'd so graciously had a mental breakdown in front of was Frank. I began to feel really intimidated because he was looking at me with these gorgeous brown eyes. Like I said before, I wasn't very good in social situations, and trying to talk to boys was the worst. Especially attractive ones. This guy looked around Nathan's age, and he shoulder length black hair. He was wearing a black muscle shirt that showed off his biceps and his multiple tattoos.

I have say though, even though I had a petrifying phobia of needles, the tattoos of this guy were really...hot.

What am I thinking? I just crashed a car I technically stole and here I was thinking how attractive the random stranger who happened to come by in the middle of the night was? My panic actually began to come back to me as I realized just how suspicious the situation was. Who else drove this road out in the middle of the night? And how had this guy happened to be there right after I crashed the car?

"Can you hear me?" Frank asked, getting me to look into his eyes. "Do you need me to call 911? You seem conscious, but it looks like you hit your head pretty hard..."

I needed to get out of here. I needed to get back on the road.

"I-I'm fine." I stuttered for the first time, trying to stand up as I leaned against the car.

The boy let got of my shoulders as I rose up, looking at me skeptically.

"Fine?" He asked. "You just crashed your car into a sign, got a pretty damn big wound on your face, and you're trying to tell me you're fine?"

I didn't know how to respond, so I just nodded. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Does it look ok?" I asked, referring to the car, hoping it wasn't damaged too bad so that I could still drive.

"The car?" He asked. I nodded and he widened his eyes. "So you just want to get back in the car you just crashed, not atleast go to a hospital to get checked out, and just pretend like nothing ever happened?" He asked, astounded.

Yet again, that's exactly what I wanted to do, but since I couldn't explain why to this boy, I just nodded again.

"Are you running from something?" He suddenly asked me.

Ten minutes into this conversation and I was already giving myself away.

"Please, I-I just need to get somewhere, and if the car is ok, then there's no need to wait." I said timidly, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Is someone trying to hurt you? Seriously, do I need to call 911?" He asked, concerned while reaching for his jeans pocket.

He pulled out his phone and I immediately began to panic. I was fine.

I was fine.

I was fine.

No one could help me.

No one cared enough to help me.

This boy just didn't know, and there was no way I could ever make him understand.

"NO!" I screamed desperately. Frank looked up, and I covered my mouth, surprised at my own outburst. I'd never been good in stressful situations.