My Injuries, Your Injuries (C...

By xoCrashFire

663K 34.1K 49.2K

Frank Iero, 17 years old, gets injuries randomly, out of the blue. He doesn't do them to himself and no one d... More

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39 -Final-
Epilogue

Chapter 20

16.4K 851 1.2K
By xoCrashFire

Okay. So, Wattpad hates me. Like when I click in the notifications to see what people commented on my stories it does this weird stuff and I don't know how to explain it but I got upset.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I straighten out my legs and make an incoherent noise before opening my eyes. All I see is black and for a split second I think I went blind, but then I move my head back and see Gerard's peaceful looking face. I yawn and push my face back in his chest and close my eyes again, not wanting to get up.

I'm almost asleep before Gerard starts moving around. I hear him yawn, then he mumbles, "Mm, good morning."

I'm still tired, so I pull my arm out from in between our stomachs and cover his mouth, "Shh."

"No, time to get up," he says, sitting up and pulling me with him.

"Why? It's Saturday, we don't have to do anything," I say, trying to lay back down. Why is he trying to make me wake up?

"Because I'm hungry and you're going to help me make food," he says, getting up and pulling me off his bed as well. Ugh, such a jerk. I'm definitely sleeping after we're done with this.

We go downstairs and the first thing I notice is that nobody's out of their rooms, except maybe Donna, but that's only because she might have to work this morning. We make our way to the kitchen and Gerard starts digging through the cabinet, looking through all the food.

"Can't you just make a bowl of cereal and eat that? I'm tired," I whine, leaning down and resting my head in the counter.

"No, I don't want cereal. I want some scrambled eggs and I don't know which pan to use for them," he says, holding up to different sized pans.

"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter. "How many eggs are you cooking?"

"I don't know. How many do you want?" He asks.

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm still making you some eggs because if I don't you'll probably whine about being hungry later and you won't have any eggs." Okay, he probably has a point there.

"So, I'll just make like three for each of us," he says, setting the bigger pan on the stove and walking towards the refrigerator.

"Gerard, three eggs is a lot for each of us," I tell him. I'm not saying because I'm not hungry, I'm saying it because it's true.

"Okay, well I'm really hungry, so I'll make three for me two for you," he says, pulling out the five eggs.

I'm kind of questioning if I'll want to eat the eggs ever because what if he isn't a good cook? Like, I know scrambled eggs are easy, but some people just don't know how to cook.

"They're ready," Gerard announces, grabbing two plates out of the cabinet and scooping the eggs on to them. To be honest, they smell and look alright, so they can't taste horrible, can they?

I yawn and grab my plate off the counter, making my way to the table.

"I thought you weren't hungry," he says, setting his plate down and going back to the counter. I turn around and watch to see what he's doing.

Making coffee. Yum. "Yeah, well, shut up," I say, too lazy to actually come up with a good come back.

He chuckles and starts the coffee maker, turning around and joining me at the table.

He grabs his fork and starts eating, slowly chewing. He looks up and gives me a weird look, "Do you have an obsession with watching me?"

"I don't know, I just think you're interesting," I answer, looking away because, wow, that sounded a little creepy.

I just grab my fork and start eating too, actually kind of like the way they taste. I didn't really see Gerard as the cooking type, but I guess you can't really judge someone you don't know too well.

After a few more bites, I push my plate away, not really wanting anymore. After all, I wasn't all that hungry from the start.

"So, do you really like me?" Gerard asks, sounding suspicious. "Or were you just fucking with me?"

I blink a few times, honestly feeling hurt, insulted that he would assume I'm just screwing with him. First of all, I couldn't fuck with someone's emotions like that, especially when they are in as big of a predicament as Gerard is. Second, I think I proved to him that I really like him. If I didn't would I have basically sworn my life to helping him? Would have told him how beautiful I think he is? Why does he always think the absolute worst of me?

"I meant it. I really, honestly, truthfully meant it, Gerard. I don't know why you always think the worst of me. It honestly hurts when all I'm trying to do is help you and show you how much I care and like you and then you just call me a bad person," I say, trying to make him see that I could not and absolutely would not hurt him like that.

"I know you aren't a bad person, but I- you have to look at this from my perspective. I've been fucked with by people who pretend to care. I don't want that to happen again. It can't, I can't let it. I've been hurt so many times and I don't want it to happen again." He looks at me with a hopeful look, one that's begging me to understand. His eyes are telling me to forgive him, to not be upset. And I do forgive him. He's such a fragile person and I understand why he does that; accuses me. He does it because he's afraid and I need to respect that.

"Gerard," I say quietly, practically a whisper. "I won't hurt you."

"Promise?" He asks, sounding like a child asking his Mom to promise that everything is okay.

I grab his hand, the one not holding the fork, and I lace our fingers, "Cross my heart and hope to die."

He looks down at our hands and he smiles, showing his teeth. I return the smile, my biggest thought being how much I hope this will lead to a relationship. A successful relationship.

"I feel like this is the part in a cheesy romance film where we kiss each other and then boom, we're dating," Gerard says, ruining the moment. We both start laughing though, pulling our hands apart to cover our mouths to try and muffle our laughter so we don't wake anyone up.

In all honesty, I would not mind that, but I want Gerard to be ready for a relationship. I won't force him into anything. Then I think of a question, one that would help me out a bit.

I clear my throat a little and rid myself of any left over giggles from the joke. "Um, do you like me?" He sends me a look. "I mean, I know you said that you do and everything, but everyone I seem to go after end up either being liars or total freaks who stalk me and cling to me like I'm their property."

"I actually do. You put so much effort into helping me that it's kinda hard not to. And, just incase you would have any second thoughts about whatever, I am kind of clingy.. Not like obsessive clingy, just the kind of clingy where I want to be with you a lot and always want to know what you're doing, et cetera." He looks down, looking a little ashamed of his confession.

"That's the normal clingy. My ex is a freaking obsessive psychopath. She goes out of her way to make sure nobody can have me, and she always tells me how much she thinks I miss her. Like, no bitch, you turned me off girls completely."

He laughs a little, "So a psycho clingy ex turned off one gender completely?"

"Yes, and I think all girls are like that, I swear it," I say, only half serious. I don't really think that, but Jamia is so fucking creepy that I feel like any other girl I would want to date would be exactly like that.

"So, if we get together... would you dump me if I got too clingy?" He has a sad tone to his voice and it breaks my heart to hear it.

"Not exactly. To be honest, I'll do what I did to her when she started getting clingy. I told her that it's a bit uncomfortable to have her all over me all the time and constantly putting her nose in my business and just, she basically treated me like her property and I didn't like that."

He nods, looking understanding, "I wouldn't treat you like my property... I'd treat you like my very attractive boyfriend."

I smile at him, then I basically tell my conscience to screw itself and whisper, "Will you be my very attractive boyfriend?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

Whoa. Hai. Sorry if the last part seemed a little like it could never actually happen if played out in reality. Like, even with my fucked up plots, I like to keep my stories a little realistic.

So, I love you guys. A lot. You seriously keep me writing stories. If it weren't for you guys constantly commenting and praising my stories (and the coin. xD The Bully readers will understand) I honestly probably would have stopped after The Bully.

I love you guys.

xoCrashFire

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