Drawn to you

A loud thumping rattles the glass on my window, and tears me from my sleep. Glancing at the clock beside me it reads 2am. Scrunching my face up in confusion, I climb out of bed as the banging continues.
Cautiously, I pull the curtains to the side, my heart beating wildly in my chest as I wonder what’s going on. But I relax a little when I see Gerard standing there.
“Come outside,” he tells me through the glass.
I sleep in a large iron maiden shirt and pj shorts , so I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and put them on before heading to the front door to see what he’s doing here.
“I hope you aren’t planning on making me train or something?” I ask as soon as I open the door and step out onto the small landing.
“Why didn’t you message me like I asked you to?” he responds, moving to climb the two steps that lead to my front door – to where I’m standing.
Holding my hands up, I step backwards, wanting to keep some distance between us so I can think properly. “Don’t. I can’t think properly if you’re too close,” I admit
“I can’t think when you’re far away.” My heart freezes, the strain in his voice conveying my exact feelings around him.

“What’s going on Gerard? My dad didn’t ask you to watch out for me. Why are you so hell bent on protecting me? And from what?”
He runs his hand over his head, messing up his usually neat hair. “I don’t know. I just need to. I don’t know what it is. But you feel it too right? It’s not just me.”
“No. It’s not just you. But I don’t know how to deal with this. I mean, would we even work in a re–” I stop, not wanting to say the word ‘relationship’. I have no idea what this thing is right now.
“I’ve never even been in one,” he admits, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he stands on the concrete path at the base of the stairs. “I just… I need to know you’re ok. It’s been just over a week, and I’m constantly thinking about you, and what you’re doing, and who you’re with – it’s driving me insane. I’m not sleeping, and I’ve just spent all day and most of the night trying to tell myself that it doesn’t matter that you didn’t text me. But it does Franklin. I can’t explain why. But it does"
“Why are you so worried about me?”
“I don’t… I don’t know. I just am, and I don’t know if I can stop,” he says, once again moving toward me, in the dim light, it’s hard to make out his features, but I can see that something isn’t right.
“Have you been fighting?” I ask, reaching up to gently touch his cheek where it appears as though he’s sucking on a wad of cotton wool.
“I was distracted. They got in a lucky punch. I still won though."
“Why do you do it?”
“Fight? Because I’m good at it,” he murmurs. “Normally, they don’t even get a punch in.” He shift his stance, seemingly agitated. “Don’t you see? This is why I needed you to tell me you were home safe. When you didn’t message, I tried to call you but your phone was off. Then when I went out, all I could think of was you, and I didn’t see the hit coming.”
A pain lodges itself in my chest as his own distress radiates off him, causing guilt to wash over me as I realise that my actions got him hurt. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his cheek. “I should have messaged you. I was just being stubborn when I realised I didn’t even get to yell at you for lying to me."
“I told him I’d look out for you. I didn’t lie. I don’t lie Franklin.”
“But you avoid the truth.”
Sighing, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest, tucking my head into the crook of his neck. I breathe him in, his scent and his closeness is so intoxicating to me, making my head spin as my hormones release euphoric serotonin into my bloodstream, heightening my emotions as I wish to stay in his arms forever.
Finally, he releases me. Kissing me in my hair as he descends the steps backwards to stand at my feet.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he informs me.
“I don’t want to train Gerard,” I murmur, shaking my head from side to side. “Please don’t make me.”
“Please,” he whispers, his voice thick and his expression pained. “I need to be around you and training with you is…it’s calming. Please Franklin. Be ready at six.” He steps away, and the sight of him retreating makes my heart lurch. I don’t want him to go. I want more of him.
“How about I go with you now? To um…your apartment – if you’d like me to of course. I mean, if I’m with you – at least you’ll know where I am… and you can sleep…” I suggest boldly, biting on my lip nervously as I wait for his response. “But I still don’t want to train.”
Looking up at me, he nods, his hands on his hips as the moonlight washes over his face, showing a man who doesn’t know how to handle this attraction we have. Hell – I don’t know how to handle this. It’s never happened to me before. As I go inside to grab my bag, my shoes, and write a note for my parents, I wonder what this is. What is it about him that’s making me so crazy to be around him? I’ve been attracted to men before – but not like this. This is something else.
Pulling the door closed quietly, I walk down the steps and take the hand he’s offering me. Without speaking, he brings my knuckles to his lips as he leads me to his car, and buckles me in.
As we drive back to his apartment, we’re quiet the whole time. It’s as if we’re trapped in a spell, neither of us really willing to speak for fear of breaking it.
Once inside, I follow him to his bedroom, my heart thudding the entire time, as he moves over to the bed, and strips off the sheets. I stand by, watching him move around, depositing one set into his laundry basket and pulling a new set out of the cupboard, making up the king sized bed neatly.
“You take the bed,” he says, breaking the silence. “I’m happy to sleep on the couch.”
“Oh. Ok,” I say, a slight pang of disappointment landing in my stomach, as he effectively breaks the spell too. “I’ll um… just use the bathroom.”
When I left with him, I didn’t really think about what I would sleep in. I’m still wearing the shirt and shorts I had on for bed, as well as the sweat pants and t-shirt I put on top of them.
I relieve myself and wash my hands, splashing water on my face before I study my reflection in the mirror. I look pale, my dark chocolate hair surrounds my light features, and my hazel eyes appear larger than normal with dark circles from my lack of sleep, beneath them.
I remove my sweatpants, hanging them on the towel rail to put back on in the morning, but I leave my shirt on. It’s long enough to be worn as a night shirt. So it will have to do.
When I emerge from the bathroom, I notice him sitting in a pair of boxer shorts on the two seater couch he’s made up, with a spare pillow and blanket.
“How are you going to fit on that?” I ask him.
“I’ll be fine,” he says, rising from his seat before he walks toward the bedroom. “Here, hop in,” he instructs, as he moves to the bed, pulling the sheets back and waiting for me to slide between them. Slipping between the cool soft cotton, I look up at him. “You know, it’s a giant bed. We could probably both fit.”
“I don’t know.” He frowns, his eyes travelling between me, the space I’ve made for him, and the couch that can be seen through the open door.
“You’re far too tall to sleep on that couch. I don’t mind sharing. We’re just sleeping – right?”
He nods, shifting his bulk to slide in next to me, reaching his arm around my waist and pulling me toward him. I pull bangs and free hair out the way to keep it out of his face, at the same time exposing my neck. Delicious chills roll through my body as he plants a soft kiss on the skin of my throat.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his arm tightening around me as he pulls me closer, kissing me softly again.
Closing my eyes, I let out a peaceful sigh. I don’t think I have ever felt more at home than I do right now – the curve of our bodies combined, the sound of his steady breathing as he relaxes into sleep, and the firm grip of his arm, holding me, protecting me. I didn’t know how much I wanted it, or how much I needed it. Now I’m not sure how I’m going to cope without it.
It’s not long before I’m drifting off to sleep myself, although I’m sure, that throughout the night, I keep feeling soft kisses against my shoulder – perhaps it’s just a dream.

Notes