The World is Ugly (Frerard)

46: It's march 22 again and im emo i can't function

Lmao
Notice how Frank is still shirtless
And I forgot that for the last three crapters
#plotholes #imtotallyaproatthiswhatareyousaying

Gerard's POV

I roll on my side, scooting over in order to get as much blanket as I can manage, careful not to make any sudden movements. I take a deep breath.

Truth is, I'm tired. Like, really tired, but I still can't sleep. It doesn't feel right to close my eyes now. Not when Frankie is asleep and defenceless,  not when that man is still out there, and not when I just killed his brother.

I think I'm beginning to get him. Although it's evident that what he and I lived can by no means be compared, he's always been the strong one. What it took to break him was about twenty times worse than what it took to break me, but still, I'm beginning to get him.

And that's exactly why I know that I can't be weak. I need to keep being myself, keep making jokes and smiling like nothing's happened. I need to be happy because that's what he needs.

I watch him sleep: peacefully and completely unaware of anything around him, and I find myself realizing just how beautiful my shitcop is. My eyes follow the slight curve of his nose, the soft lines of his lips, and finally, the long cut that crosses his face all the way from his ear to the base of his neck.
He's not bleeding anymore, but all of his cuts are fresh and reopen easily.

I listen to him breathe. His breaths are irregular and short. He's frowning, his eyes are moving rapidly, and the corners of his mouth are twitching down every few seconds. He's having a nightmare.

Moving as slowly as I can, I place my arm over his shoulder, gently running my thumb over the areas with no wounds. "Hey, Frankie" I whisper in his ear "It's all okay, it's just a dream. You're safe now". His muscles slowly relax and his breaths fall into a more regular pattern after that.

Seeing that he's sleeping well now, I sigh and go back to staring at the ceiling as I've been doing the whole time. My eyes are beginning to close by themselves. I shake my head and open them wide, but my eyelids feel way too heavy for that to be enough. I'm gonna have to take drastic measures.

Reluctantly, I push the covers aside and move my feet over the edge of the bed. The thing creaks a little when I move, but Frank appears to be too deep  in his sleep to notice. I then tiptoe my way out of the room and into the still unfamiliar hallway of the Simons' house.

I follow the scent of burnt food down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Simone is frantically trying to put a fire out with a spatula. I giggle just loud enough to get her attention.

"Oh hey, Gee!" She says, turning her head a bit so she can see both, me and the object of her swatting at the same time. The flames are starting to grow smaller. I think. I walk closer.

"What happened here?" I ask, looking at the flaming pan.

"I was trying to cook or whatever for you guys when i accidentally dropped a napkin into the thing and now it's on fire" she explains quickly.

"Simone why were you holding a napkin while cooking something in a pan?"

She blushes, ashamed. "I... Well... I was having a popsicle and it started melting, so I had to grab one to keep it from falling all over the food"