Summertime (Frerard)

42: I Love You, Don't You Mind?

"No."

The word left my mouth before I could manage to think straight; speaking in a state blissfully unaware of just what effects my words could and mostly likely would have, and I think, at first, everyone was more surprised that I'd actually spoken up at all.

I guess Bert expected me to be a pushover like Gerard had been.

He was wrong and I felt it necessary to prove that to him and perhaps with a fist to the face, but I didn't want to do that at first - I didn't quite want to resort to measures quite as dire as that, and most of all, a part of me was trying with all its might to bottle down the vibe of intimidation the guy gave off with the simplicity of his mere presence.

"Gerard, I'm not." I continued, directing my words in Gerard's direction, turning away from the glaring ex-boyfriend that stood over me with a most certainly vengeful glare, in what was probably a bad decision, but I think right now it wasn't all that idiotic of me to pride Gerard's wellbeing over mine. "I'm not leaving, okay?" I felt my eyes soften at that, searching for his, but only to fine them stone cold and fixated upon the man stood beside me.

"Leave him alone, alright?" Bert rolled his eyes, grabbing my arm as to grab my attention, and getting nothing but the worst side of my temper in return, because I really was fuming, especially that he had the fucking nerve to tell me to leave Gerard alone. "He's made his choice. He wants me back, I'm sorry, faggot, but you're done."

And I think the thing I hated more than the disgusting words that left his mouth was the way Gerard just let Bert speak for him.

And I hated how different this was from the Gerard back in his own home arguing with Mikey, and I hated just how Bert reduced him to something else, something that just wasn't Gerard.

"How can you call me a faggot? Look at you? And look at your ex-boyfriend. Faggot." And I hated that word, but I reckoned perhaps that I hated him even more, so I used it with all regrets and morals pushed aside; things seemed to be a lot easier that way as well.

"Frankie don't-" And my eyes widened, at first because Gerard had finally spoken, but secondly as I came to realise the content of his words, and how I had never hated anyone as much as the man stood beside me - the man who'd ruined Gerard.

"Shut it." Bert silenced him before I could; his words however baring anger, despite the fact Gerard's words had been in nothing but a blind and almost ignorant defence of him.

Gerard didn't argue in response, his gaze simply drifting downwards, amusing himself with the coffee that he'd only half drank, losing himself in nothingness, and with a situation like this around him, I couldn't say I blamed him all that much.

"Don't talk to him like that." I silenced Bert, because by now I knew Gerard wasn't going to, because it was simply Bert's presence that had drained Gerard of everything and anything that was prominently him, and I hated the sinking feeling tugging at the pit of my stomach as I contemplated the possibility of being put right back to square one with Gerard.

"Don't talk to me like that, pansy." And it took all self-control to let out a snort at the fact that the guy bombarding me with homophobic insults was also pretty much trying to steal my boyfriend.

"I know what you did to him, you know, and I'm not ever going to let him go back to your for precisely that reason." I played that card, expecting to take him down a notch with my efforts, but of course, it had no effect on the man, only pulling a smirk onto his face as moved to sit down beside Gerard in a manner that disgusted me, and I was only thankful that Gerard's eyes were still directed downwards and he hadn't even acknowledged Bert's actions.