Counting Down The Days To Go (Frerard)

My eyes slowly opened, only seeing a grey cement ceiling. There was someone muttering and shuffling about beside me, but an attempt to reposition myself sent pains throughout my entire body. I hissed and pain and the same person came to my side from before, Gerard. "Don't move," he told me.
"Well, I'm in intense pain," I managed to groan out, "it isn't crossing my mind."
He smiled slightly. "You just got beat up and you still manage to be sassy." He flicked some hair out of my face.
"Speaking of that... god, what happened?"
He pursed his lips. "I-I don't know. I walked in on Jack beating you and I freaked out and started yelling at him. You have a lot of bruises. It'd be normal to be sore... We're in the smoking area, by the way."
I smiled knowing that he if he hadn't gotten into it, I might be in a hospital bed right now. "Thank you."
"Of course." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled wider and craned my neck as far as I could without pain to return the kiss. He sighed as he pulled away and stroked my face. "I love you, Frankie."
"I love you too, Gee." I looked away. "I-I'm sorry for ignoring you."
He laughed. "Don't worry about it, baby."
"No, I really am. I just..."
The pain in my body was immediately replaced with sadness as I thought about what he said. He won't recover. There will be no wedding.

Gerard will die.

Before I knew it, my sobbing frame was wrapped in his arms, my eyeliner running down my face and leaving black splotches in his grey shirt. He stroked my hair and whispered things in my ear, that he loved me and that things will be okay. I gripped his shirt until my knuckles were white. Gerard is dying, he won't recover, there will be no wedding, I'm going to lose the one I love. I refused to accept it. "G-Gerard, fuck," I muttered into his neck.
"What's wrong?"
I let out a shaky sigh and lifted my head from his neck, completely ignoring the pain. "I-I don't like hearing that you're dying. It..." I pursed my lips. Was I really about to go on a deep, depressing tangent about my self-loathing? "You're the first person that I've-- that I've known actually loved me. That... that said it and meant it. And the idea that I-I'm going to lose you is terrifying." I took a deep breath. "And the fact I hate myself, yet someone was fucked up enough in the brain to love me. It's amazing."
Instead of replying, he kissed my forehead.

And we sat there in the smoke area for a while, arms wrapped around each other, our breaths in sync.

And I loved this about us. We weren't always touchy-feely or making out or flirting. We could just sit with eachother and it would be romantic.

After a while, Gerard pushed me back a little, so I could look at him without having to tilt my head all the way up. Again, he slowly brought our lips together. I smiled into the kiss and wrapped my hand around his neck, pushing him closer. I remember the night we met. I had to get out of there, it reeked of alcohol and sweat. I mean, I love concerts, but the crowd was just so big. I'm not one to strike up chats with complete strangers, but something drew him to me. I still don't know what it was. I don't regret, not one bit, talking to him. I remember seeing him awkwardly chuckle and just wanting to kiss him right then and there, and now I'm making out with him behind the school and fucking engaged.

Never did I ever think my hell I've come to call my life would be as amazing as this.

Notes

sorry i didn't update yesterday, i went over to my mom's and she didn't have wifi so i just didn't bring my laptop

xo