See The Rust Through Your Playground Eyes

It was around 3 o'clock that I left the park. Trix and Alex having left almost immediately, having promised to be together 'until the world ends'.

I was now in my car contemplating what to do next. The only thing for sure is that I can't go home. I checked the time and decided on having something to eat, since I didn't have breakfast.
I drove around until I found a nice place that seemed almost empty. I parked the car and went inside. I didn't bother looking around the place, too busy trying to not think about Frankie. I sat at an empty table in the back. When the waiter came I gave her my order and that was all the human contact I had had since I left the house.

I was eating peacefully, as peaceful as you could be in my situation, when a young woman sits down in the empty chair across from me. She just sits there and smirks mischievously at me. Everything about her screams 'slut', from her long black hair, long red nails and extremely short shorts to her fake breasts and high heels.

"Can I help you, miss?"

She bit her lip and leaned forward on the table, ridiculously large cleavage showing more than what it covered.

"It's more about if I could help you, hottie." she said in a pathetic attempt at a sexy tone of voice. She continued, "You don't look so happy. I want to help you feel better."
I looked at her, then down at the baguette [A.N. I fucking LOVE baguettes! Carry on with your reading.] I was trying to eat. Any other day I would have walked away from her, maybe throwing a nasty comment over my shoulder. But today? Today I needed a distraction and that's not something a baguette could give me.

Swallowing the lump of guilt in my throat I looked back up at her and smirked lopsidedly, "That sounds marvelous." I said in a low voice.

She bit her lip stood up, I left money on the table and stood, following her to the parking lot.
"What's your name?" she asked me once I had came out of the restaurant.

"Jake" I answered. No way in hell am I telling a one time hook up my name. It makes it more personal.

"I'm Diana." she replied.

I nodded and started to walk towards where I knew a hotel was. She followed, high heels clacking against the pavement.

"I don't usually do this" she said one she had caught up with me.

Why do I not believe her?

I said nothing, instead paying attention to the way she walked. Hips swinging in a horribly slutty way, not like Frankie; he has grace and class, he's tempting, she's vulgar. Sucking her stomach in and her chest out trying to look sexy, Frankie didn't have to do that; he had an amazing body, slender but not too thin and with extra flesh in all the right parts, skin soft but toned were it should be, he's desirable, she's pathetic.

No, I have to stop thinking about him, it's not right.

When we got to the hotel I payed for a room and we used the elevator to get to our floor.
Once inside she immediately started to kiss me. I didn't feel absolutely anything, nothing at all. Not like with Frankie, with butterflies and warmness and tingling sensations. No, not at all.
'I have to stop thinking about him' was what I repeated to myself as I begrugedly kissed her back. She pushed me on the bed and started to strip.

If this is what I have to do to get Frankie out of my mind, then I'll do it.

-----Time Lapse-----

I stepped out of the bathroom and found that Diana was still asleep on the hotel bed. I had been awake for about half an hour now so I had taken a shower and was now going to leave. I pulled on my black converse and left the hotel room. It was getting dark out. I checked my watch, 6:18 p.m. I sighed.

I walked down the street to where my car was. I got in and started it but didn't move.

What the hell did I just do?

Sleeping with the random stranger was supposed to take my mind off him, but it did the exact opposite. I kept comparing him to her, even though I knew Frankie was unique and had no comparison, I kept remembering the dream and that was actually what I was thinking about. No the woman I was inside of, not anybody else. Just a dream I had about a little boy who I can't and won't ever have.

And still I stupidly try to forget him by using a stupid woman I met at a restaurant? Nobody, that means absolutely nobody, can hold a candle light to my Frankie.

'My' Frankie? No, not mine. He isn't, can't and won't ever be mine even if I want him to be.
I sighed and started to drive.

I want to go to Frankie. I want to scrub off the disgusting hickeys on my neck and scratch marks on my back. I want to press his body flush against mine and forget the fact that the world would hate us.

But I can't. Things don't work that way.

I'm going to go home, act as if I didn't want to exterminate the whole human race -except Frankie, of course- and forget the fact that I long to have Frankie in my arms.

I came to the sudden conclusion that I miss him. I miss his hugs and I miss his lips atop mine. Nobody can kiss like Frankie, he's slow and sensual and has a way of making you want more but giving you just enough. I found myself thinking back to the times we kissed. It felt good, no doubt about that, but apart from that there was something else. Something I could see in his eyes when we pulled away, something I could feel when his lips touched mine.

There was a feeling much stronger than just 'want' it felt like we belonged together, even if just riding in the same car. It was so innocent even if what had happened was anything but.
Only, what we had done, was innocent. I had had no second intentions when I kissed him, I didn't do it just because it felt amazing nor were my actions lust driven. All I wanted was to feel him, it's what I want right now. I want to feel him right here with me, I want to know that I'm still alive and I need a reminder that he's real. He seems so perfect, it almost seems as if I'm dreaming, as if I made him up.

I might as well have made him up, since I can't have him. Or maybe, I can? I just have to be careful, not let anybody find out and -of course- see if he wants to, but it could work right?
What if he doesn't want to? I mean, like I said, it could be all in my head and maybe he feels nothing for me. That seems very possible. But, I can't be making all of this up, can I? It's too much, feels too real. The way his eyes shine, the way he smiles, I'm not making this up.
When I got home I put my car in the garage and then went inside. The house was so quiet, it was creepy.

Now, I have to decide what I'm going to do. Do I go up to his room? And say what? Should I even try to fix things? What if there's nothing to fix and he hates me now?
I decided I had to at least see if he was asleep, though, it was too early to sleep.
I trudged up the stairs to Frankie's room. The door was closed, as usual, so I knocked on it.

"W-who i-is i-it?" I heard his beautiful voice, all though it was laced with hurt and dare I say tears.

I felt my heart do weird things at the sound of his voice, sumersalts and the bunch. "It's Gerard." I answered.

I heard ruffling and not two seconds later the door flung open. In the doorway stood a pajama clad angel with blood-shot eyes and chocolate hair tied back in to a messy pony tail. He lunged himself at me, wrapping his thin arms around my neck and pressing his body close against mine.

"M-missed y-you. W-where w-were y-you? A-re y-you o-okay? W-why d-did y-you l-leave?" he asked, pressing his nose to the crook of my neck.

"I'm sorry." was all I could think to say.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, pressing him even closer to me, nuzzling my noze in his hair and inhaling his warm vanilla scent. I missed him so much.

He pulled away slightly, then he looked up at me with a confused expresion. He stared at my neck, I turned my head, trying to get a better look at him but he tilted my head back. He undid my tie and unbuttoned the top three buttons of my shirt, then he pulled at the neck, exposing all of my once perfectly pale neck that was now scattered with hickeys.

I fwlt myself blush and I started to panic. What am I going to say? I tried to forget you so I went and slept with the first girl I found?

"W-what's t-that?" he asked quietly. By his tone of voice I could tell he knew exactly what it was, I could tell he was trying hard to not let his emotions win. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at the disgusting marks and then at my guilty face and his eyes dull and glimmer with tears.

But, that's in my head right? He can't know what it is right? I didn't say anything. There was nothing to say, was there? He pulled me in to his room by the tie, closing the door behind me.

He leaned on it, pulling me to him, still by the tie. I placed a hand on his hip, the other on the door, holding me up.

He lightly traced the marks on my neck with his fingertips, pressing down softly on one of them, "D-does it h-hurt?" he asked.

I was still wondering in feel of Frankie's skin on mine so I took a little while before I answered a shaky 'no'. He pulled me closer, my body now completely pressed up against his, his hand clutching on like a life line to the front part of my vest.

"W-what happened?" he asked.

I sighed, "I was an idiot and did something stupid."

I could feel him tighten his grip on my vest, "W-what did y-you do?"

I pushed him back a bit, back flat against the door. He gasped slightly, probably not expecting it, but apart from that said nothing.

I had my arms around his middle but slowly let go, letting my hands roam lower. I held on to his hips and pressed closer to him. He re-wrapped his arms around my neck. I leaned down slightly, wanting to kiss his perfect pink lips, wanting to feel him again.

But he turned away slightly, unwrapping his arms, "T-tell m-me w-what you d-did."

Notes

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