"Scare the shit out of people. That way nobody will ever see just how scared you are."
Chapter 9
All he could think about was Frances. Her airy voice, her piercing eyes, her weird, high pitched laugh, and the confusing feeling she left Gerard with. She invaded his mind, leaving a lingering feeling behind. All he wanted to do was see her again, but with the weeklong break, how could he? In the end, the answer was so simple it took nearly two days to discover.
He called her.
"Hello?" Just the sound of her breathy voice was enough to make Gerard feel like he was going to faint.
"Hi." He managed to say. She giggled.
"Is this Gerard?"
"Uh, yeah." He swallowed hard and tried again. "Listen, I really wanted to draw this picture, but I need a model for it."
"You want me to come over again?" She asked. He nodded, and then remembered that she couldn't see that.
"Ye-yes. I mean, if you don't mind." He added quickly. Shit! He was stuttering so much. He probably sounded like an idiot.
"I'll come over tomorrow." She said.
"Um, how about around 2?"
"Sure. What should I wear?"
Gerard felt his throat swell shut. He had no idea how she would react. Finally, he decided now or never.
"Nothing." He managed.
"Nothing?" He could see the amused smile that was probably on her face. "That's an improvement over last time."
"Yeah, well," he began.
"I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he heard the receiver click.
The next morning, Gerard spent forever trying to make sure everything was ready. He decided how he wanted to draw her, but was terrified she'd say no to taking off her clothes, which would have ruined the picture. He was nervous about seeing her again. It didn't help that Mikey had his annoying friend over again. For reasons Gerard couldn't even begin to phantom, just knowing that Frank was within 200 feet of him made him homicidal. God damn, he hated Frank.
At the last minute, Gerard decided to go into Mikey's room. Frank was teaching Mikey guitar. They both looked up when he walked in.
"Hey, Gee." Mikey said. Gerard smiled at him, but when he looked at Frank he rolled his eyes.
"Okay, look my friend is coming over, and I want Frank out of the house." Frank looked confused, and then hurt. Mikey rolled his eyes. "Come on, Gee." He said.
"Well, any reason why he can't?"
Frank seemed frozen. Finally, he nodded. "I'll go."
"I'm coming then." Mikey said quickly. Frank practically ran out of the room. Mikey shot Gerard a glance, at which Gerard smiled sweetly and waved.
Very shortly after they left, Frances came. She was wearing a heavy jacket and when she took it off, she was wearing lacy white dress. She seemed to float around in it. She was much tinier without the jacket. Her hair was a mess, as usual. Gerard quickly brought her up to the attic.
"Okay, so what do you want me to do?" She asked.
Gerard paused, and then swallowed hard. "I, uh, could you take your dress off?"
Without a word, she swiftly reached behind and unzipped the dress. She let it fall down, before stepping out of it and pushing it aside.
She was wearing a bra and underwear. They didn't match. Gerard froze, staring at her. He'd seen girls in bikinis, sure, but he never saw a girl in just a bra and underwear in the flesh. That was private. That was something only girls saw.
"And you're uh-you're"
Without another word, she took everything else off. Gerard just stared at her.
He drank her in. He looked at her tummy, how flat it looked, until it hit the little roll of fat, right above the tuff of reddish brown colored hair, all the proof Gerard needed that she dyed her hair. His eyes moved up to her breasts. They were round and firm. They looked soft, the centers seeming silky. Gerard resisted any urge to reach out and touch her, despite how much he wondered what they felt like. Her legs were long and skinny, the knees sharp and boney.
Along her hip and slightly towards her back, he saw a long, thin scar that curved slightly as it reached her hip bone. Her skin was all the same color, the same pale white. His eyes traveled slightly at her thighs, the way the skin folded in, the bruises on her inner thigh, faded to a bluish yellow color.
God, she was beautiful!
Suddenly, Gerard felt hot. Very hot. Beads of sweat broke out around his forehead, and he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The room felt impossibly stuffy.
Frances was sweating too. She gathered up her hair, holding it at the top of her head briefly, letting the air touch her neck.
“Um, stand over back there,” he finally managed to say. She nodded and walked towards the wall. Gerard followed after her, lingering behind.
“I, uh, never mind.” He mumbled. He was nervous. He still couldn’t believe he had a girl completely naked and was going to draw her. She turned back, her eyes staring into his.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I wanted to, never mind. Really.”
“What do you want?” she repeated, a hint of a smile on her face.
“Okay, well see, we have these, uh, ropes here, and I… never mind. Really.”
“You want to tie me up.”
“Not exactly like that.” He said quickly. “Just your hands, above your head. But we don’t have to.” He added quickly.
She looked at the ropes, back at him, and then to the ropes again. “Let’s do it.”
“Frances, I can’t.” he said truthfully. He fidgeted nervously.
“I’m okay with it. Really. Just do it, draw the picture, and then we’re good.”
Awkwardly, he reached out and took hold of her wrists. His hands were already sweaty and he was suddenly scared. Terrified. He could only imagine what this looked like, him, fully clothed, tying a poor, defenseless naked girl up. He tried to make sure he didn’t make the ropes too tight on her wrists, but he was now suddenly scared that it would hurt her to keep her arms up like that for so long. He didn’t like the way any of it felt at all, even if it was almost a little exciting.
Finally, he finished. Quickly, not even looking back, he practically ran back to his spot and took out his sketch book. He looked up once before beginning and was startled.
It looked perfect. She was keeping her head titled slightly at her side, her hair covering part of her face. Her legs stretched out, keeping one over the other slightly, all her weight resting on one side. She was perfectly straight, her back arched forward. Gerard noticed another bruise, on her ribcage. It was small, purple. He wondered how she got it. Then, he took a breathe and started sketching, losing himself in his special little world.
For nearly an hour, all Gerard thought of was this sketch. But when he looked up again, he looked over at her legs and saw the muscles straining tightly in them. Frances breathed in sharply, and then went up on her toes, taking the weight off of her wrists for a moment, before sinking back down. Gerard quickly jumped up, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he kept saying. He ran to her and quickly loosened the ropes. He didn’t realize how tightly he had knotted it.
Frances didn’t say anything. She just looked up, watching as Gerard readjusted the ropes, taking off enough so that she could have a bend at her elbows, and then he quickly went back to drawing.
“Thanks,” she suddenly said. He looked up and nodded quickly. He didn’t know what to say.
When he finished, he studied the picture for a moment. It was definitely one of his favorites. It was the most realistic picture he had ever drawn, almost photogenic. The charcoal had smudged slightly, but he loved the effect it had. The entire picture seemed hazy, almost unreal, just like how the situation felt to Gerard.
Gerard got up and went back to Frances and untied the ropes quickly. She kept her head down, her hair covering her eyes, as she rubbed her wrists carefully for a moment, before looking up, smiling again as though nothing happened.
“You done?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Gerard quickly passed her the dress lying on the ground.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked as he watched her change.
“Sure.”
She shook her hair out and looked at herself in the mirror across from them. She smoothed her dress down and smiled again.
“Don’t you want to see the picture?”
“Maybe later.”
Before Gerard could say anything else, Frances was walking out of the attic. He followed after her and the two left the house and started walking around. They were laughing a lot, talking as though nothing strange happened between them that afternoon at all. That was what Gerard loved about being with Frances. She didn’t ever look back at anything, or let anything that happened change the way she wanted things to be. Gerard wanted more than anything to be like that. To not think or judge or anything. Just to make things the way he wanted them to be.
He called her.
"Hello?" Just the sound of her breathy voice was enough to make Gerard feel like he was going to faint.
"Hi." He managed to say. She giggled.
"Is this Gerard?"
"Uh, yeah." He swallowed hard and tried again. "Listen, I really wanted to draw this picture, but I need a model for it."
"You want me to come over again?" She asked. He nodded, and then remembered that she couldn't see that.
"Ye-yes. I mean, if you don't mind." He added quickly. Shit! He was stuttering so much. He probably sounded like an idiot.
"I'll come over tomorrow." She said.
"Um, how about around 2?"
"Sure. What should I wear?"
Gerard felt his throat swell shut. He had no idea how she would react. Finally, he decided now or never.
"Nothing." He managed.
"Nothing?" He could see the amused smile that was probably on her face. "That's an improvement over last time."
"Yeah, well," he began.
"I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he heard the receiver click.
The next morning, Gerard spent forever trying to make sure everything was ready. He decided how he wanted to draw her, but was terrified she'd say no to taking off her clothes, which would have ruined the picture. He was nervous about seeing her again. It didn't help that Mikey had his annoying friend over again. For reasons Gerard couldn't even begin to phantom, just knowing that Frank was within 200 feet of him made him homicidal. God damn, he hated Frank.
At the last minute, Gerard decided to go into Mikey's room. Frank was teaching Mikey guitar. They both looked up when he walked in.
"Hey, Gee." Mikey said. Gerard smiled at him, but when he looked at Frank he rolled his eyes.
"Okay, look my friend is coming over, and I want Frank out of the house." Frank looked confused, and then hurt. Mikey rolled his eyes. "Come on, Gee." He said.
"Well, any reason why he can't?"
Frank seemed frozen. Finally, he nodded. "I'll go."
"I'm coming then." Mikey said quickly. Frank practically ran out of the room. Mikey shot Gerard a glance, at which Gerard smiled sweetly and waved.
Very shortly after they left, Frances came. She was wearing a heavy jacket and when she took it off, she was wearing lacy white dress. She seemed to float around in it. She was much tinier without the jacket. Her hair was a mess, as usual. Gerard quickly brought her up to the attic.
"Okay, so what do you want me to do?" She asked.
Gerard paused, and then swallowed hard. "I, uh, could you take your dress off?"
Without a word, she swiftly reached behind and unzipped the dress. She let it fall down, before stepping out of it and pushing it aside.
She was wearing a bra and underwear. They didn't match. Gerard froze, staring at her. He'd seen girls in bikinis, sure, but he never saw a girl in just a bra and underwear in the flesh. That was private. That was something only girls saw.
"And you're uh-you're"
Without another word, she took everything else off. Gerard just stared at her.
He drank her in. He looked at her tummy, how flat it looked, until it hit the little roll of fat, right above the tuff of reddish brown colored hair, all the proof Gerard needed that she dyed her hair. His eyes moved up to her breasts. They were round and firm. They looked soft, the centers seeming silky. Gerard resisted any urge to reach out and touch her, despite how much he wondered what they felt like. Her legs were long and skinny, the knees sharp and boney.
Along her hip and slightly towards her back, he saw a long, thin scar that curved slightly as it reached her hip bone. Her skin was all the same color, the same pale white. His eyes traveled slightly at her thighs, the way the skin folded in, the bruises on her inner thigh, faded to a bluish yellow color.
God, she was beautiful!
Suddenly, Gerard felt hot. Very hot. Beads of sweat broke out around his forehead, and he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The room felt impossibly stuffy.
Frances was sweating too. She gathered up her hair, holding it at the top of her head briefly, letting the air touch her neck.
“Um, stand over back there,” he finally managed to say. She nodded and walked towards the wall. Gerard followed after her, lingering behind.
“I, uh, never mind.” He mumbled. He was nervous. He still couldn’t believe he had a girl completely naked and was going to draw her. She turned back, her eyes staring into his.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I wanted to, never mind. Really.”
“What do you want?” she repeated, a hint of a smile on her face.
“Okay, well see, we have these, uh, ropes here, and I… never mind. Really.”
“You want to tie me up.”
“Not exactly like that.” He said quickly. “Just your hands, above your head. But we don’t have to.” He added quickly.
She looked at the ropes, back at him, and then to the ropes again. “Let’s do it.”
“Frances, I can’t.” he said truthfully. He fidgeted nervously.
“I’m okay with it. Really. Just do it, draw the picture, and then we’re good.”
Awkwardly, he reached out and took hold of her wrists. His hands were already sweaty and he was suddenly scared. Terrified. He could only imagine what this looked like, him, fully clothed, tying a poor, defenseless naked girl up. He tried to make sure he didn’t make the ropes too tight on her wrists, but he was now suddenly scared that it would hurt her to keep her arms up like that for so long. He didn’t like the way any of it felt at all, even if it was almost a little exciting.
Finally, he finished. Quickly, not even looking back, he practically ran back to his spot and took out his sketch book. He looked up once before beginning and was startled.
It looked perfect. She was keeping her head titled slightly at her side, her hair covering part of her face. Her legs stretched out, keeping one over the other slightly, all her weight resting on one side. She was perfectly straight, her back arched forward. Gerard noticed another bruise, on her ribcage. It was small, purple. He wondered how she got it. Then, he took a breathe and started sketching, losing himself in his special little world.
For nearly an hour, all Gerard thought of was this sketch. But when he looked up again, he looked over at her legs and saw the muscles straining tightly in them. Frances breathed in sharply, and then went up on her toes, taking the weight off of her wrists for a moment, before sinking back down. Gerard quickly jumped up, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he kept saying. He ran to her and quickly loosened the ropes. He didn’t realize how tightly he had knotted it.
Frances didn’t say anything. She just looked up, watching as Gerard readjusted the ropes, taking off enough so that she could have a bend at her elbows, and then he quickly went back to drawing.
“Thanks,” she suddenly said. He looked up and nodded quickly. He didn’t know what to say.
When he finished, he studied the picture for a moment. It was definitely one of his favorites. It was the most realistic picture he had ever drawn, almost photogenic. The charcoal had smudged slightly, but he loved the effect it had. The entire picture seemed hazy, almost unreal, just like how the situation felt to Gerard.
Gerard got up and went back to Frances and untied the ropes quickly. She kept her head down, her hair covering her eyes, as she rubbed her wrists carefully for a moment, before looking up, smiling again as though nothing happened.
“You done?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Gerard quickly passed her the dress lying on the ground.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked as he watched her change.
“Sure.”
She shook her hair out and looked at herself in the mirror across from them. She smoothed her dress down and smiled again.
“Don’t you want to see the picture?”
“Maybe later.”
Before Gerard could say anything else, Frances was walking out of the attic. He followed after her and the two left the house and started walking around. They were laughing a lot, talking as though nothing strange happened between them that afternoon at all. That was what Gerard loved about being with Frances. She didn’t ever look back at anything, or let anything that happened change the way she wanted things to be. Gerard wanted more than anything to be like that. To not think or judge or anything. Just to make things the way he wanted them to be.
Update, pwease?
12/21/13