Despite everything, I still insisted on making Frank breakfast that morning. I'm not sure why, probably out of pure stubborn-ness, but I didnt allow Frank to touch a single thing in the kitchen. As a result, after much experimentation, I came out with toast. Burned toast. I stared helplessly at the sad excuse for a meal, before sighing, shrugging, and picking up the plate. I set it down in front of him and swept a large, exaggerated bow. "Your meal, Mr Iero, bon appetit," I announced grandly. He laughed and picked up a slice of the blackened bread. It made a crunching noise when he bit into it. I winced at the sound, making him giggle and spray dark crumbs from his mouth. "Delicious," he said sarcastically. I pouted dramatically, crossing my arms like a little kid, and he snorted and got out his chair. He wandered over to me, prised my arms open and slipped into them, snuggling in. I sighed and wound my arms around his small frame, kissing the top of his head - which came just below my chin, awww. "You're such a cheater, Frank," I accused. He looked up, confused. "What?" I grinned. "i can't stay mad at you when you do this." I squeezed him lightly to make my point clear. He burst out laughing again, and kissed my jaw. I rolled my eyes. "See, you just did it again! You laugh at me then you kiss me and all is forgiven!" I scowled at him. He just laughed more. "Well, Gee, if it makes you feel any better, you do the exact same thing to me," he giggled cutely, a light blush spreading over his cheeks. I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, really?" He nodded, still grinning. I laughed and hugged him again. He ran a hand over my arm, but his hand suddenly grazed over where my long sleeve concealed the still-healing cuts on my skin. I hissed softly and flinched on reflex, then tensed as I realized I'd given myself away. He pulled back and looked up at my face with a confused expression. "Gerard?" he asked softly. I looked away, avoiding eye-contact. "Gerard, is something up with your arm?" I stared at a spot on the wall. "I, um... I hurt it a few days ago, it's nothing," I mumbled lamely. He raised an eyebrow. "If it's 'nothing' then why did you get so defensive and jumpy?" Daaaaaamn. I didn't say anything, I just stared away. I felt his hand on mine, and I closed my eyes when I felt him slide my sleeve up, screwing my face up and praying that I could wake up in his spare room now. I knew precisely when his eyes fell on the cuts, because I heard his sharp intake of breath and his hand stilled. I opened my eyes slowly and glanced at him. He was staring at my forearm, his face pale and his eyes horrified. I couldn't take the look on his face, the expression of pure horror and shock. I ripped mysrlf from his grasp, and I took the coward's way out: I ran. I dashed up the stairs and into his spare room, slamming and locking the door and then sinking to the floor with my back pressed against it. I pulled my knees up to my chest, pressed my face into them and cried in hard, shaking sobs. I heard the pound of Frank racing up the stairs in pursuit of me, and a second later he was knocking on the door. "Gerard? Gerard! Please open the door, let me please hon!" I ignored his pleas and pressed my face further into my knees. How could he ever look at me in the same way? He'd just seen my arm, decorated in it's macabre pattern of self-mutilation. "Gerard please, I'm begging you, open the door!" What was wrong with his voice? Was he... was he crying? I listened, and I could hear little sniffles and light sobs from the other side of the door. Oh crap, Frank was crying. I couldn't have that. I stood, and released the locks on the door, allowing it to swing open. There he stood, his face tear-stained and swollen. I stared at him, reading his signs of distress sullenly. I hated that I made him look that way. He just stared pitifully into my eyes, and then suddenly he took my hand and pulled me into the room, sitting down on the bed and pulling me down next to him. I sat obligingly, worried about what he'd want to say. He took my arm and once again studied the marks and cuts. Then he looked up at me, eyes huge and earnest. "Did you... do this to yourself?" he asked me softly. I nodded. "Can you tell me why?" he prompted. I looked at my lap, sighing. "I... I'm not sure..." I said quietly. "We were talking and I just got really confused, and I... I don't know, the pain stopped all the thoughts in my,head. It made everything go away for a little while..." I tried to make sense of the mess bouncing through my brain. He frowned. "You did it the other day... when yoy locked yourself in the bathroom." He murmured his quiet realization. I nodded, ashamed. He sighed a little, and then he moved suddenly and ended up on my lap, facing me, legs loose around my waist. I met his eyes in surprise. He leaned in so that we were eye-to-eye. "Listen to me, Gerard Way. I want you to promise me you will never, ever do anything to purposely harm your body ever again. If you feel like you're going to, you let me know and I will help you. But I don't ever want to hear of you hurting yourself, okay?" I sighed. "I'll try," I conceded. "That's all I ask," he said quietly, kissing my lips softly. I kissed him back, deepening the kiss and trailing down to his neck, which made him moan. "Gerard?" His voice was shaky and quiet still. "Mmmm?" I mumbled against his creamy skin. "I... I think I love you."

Notes

Woaah, I didn't realize how long it had been. Time flies when you're slamming your head against the wall trying to overcome writer's block. Woot. On a side note, life update: I got my results for maths, biology and physics. A* in all three, bitch, fuckyeah! So yeah, I'm a very happy bunny :D Paranoia Violence out xø