Alternative Treatment?

I woke up to the sound of Gerard's sleeptalking. He mumbled in his dream a little, saying silly phrases like, "anchovies...if they laugh at you you'll drown" and "the sofabears don't know". It was quite amusing. I turned around in the bed, hugging my knees in thought of what would happen today. Gerard was a clever man, and had convinced me to rob a bank with him. With some stupid costumes. Oh yeah, and we'll probably get arrested, whoopty-fucking-doo.

Gerard's eyes shot open, and it scared the living shit out of me. He looked to me, a large smirk on his face. "Today's the day, Frankie!"

After a few moments, he got from the bed and started getting dressed. Meanwhile, I paced slowly to the restroom, gathering my new Smashing Pumpkins tee that Gerard gave me yesterday, black skinnies, and my good old converse.

Gerard hopped to me, laughing maniacally. "We're robbing a bank, we're robbing a bank," he chanted childishly. "Frank and I are robbing a bank!"

I managed to get a map down in the lobby to locate the bank. I mean, if we were really going to do this, we were going to do it right. Gerard pointed to a spot on the map.

"No, the bank's over here," I corrected him, pointing to basically the corner of the map. Gerard nodded in understanding. "Yeah, but we got to get our costumes."

"You were serious?"

"When am I not serious?" Gerard pecked my cheek lightly, and I blushed. "Come on, tomato."

We started to walk around the city (the place was pretty far), sightseeing and all that. Gerard had his fingers intertwined with mine, and when he looked down at me, he smiled real wide and gripped my hand. That's the thing about him. His hands are so warm, and mine are basically frozen solid. It was a good feeling.

Gerard grinned and pointed to a shop.

"Do you want to get breakfast on our date?" My eyes widened on that. Really wide.

"We're on a date?" I must've blushed my whole face red.

"Uh...unless you don't want to!" Gerard blurted in defense. "I mean, I don't even know if you like me." I was silent and he shrugged. "I don't even know if you like men."

I told myself I only liked the medicated Gerard, and this guy was a murderer. But...he was too amazing for me to hate. No matter how hard I tried, even his villainous side had pulled me in. But he could ruin my life, for chrissakes.

I was willing to take that risk. "I...I do like you," I laughed, gladly. My emotions started to pour out, and next thing I know, I'm telling him about my feelings. "I always had. You've always amazed me in your personality, your words, your action. Before you, I would wake up in the middle of the night and I wouldn't ever wake up in mornings. Life was pointless, it was just a game that I had used up all my lives but one. That one life was going to be saved if I got a job and paid back all my criminal charges. But, instead, I slacked with you, tried to make you have a good time. I know you're a criminal and all...but you are too innocent for all this. I still like you even after you threatened to shoot me and sent my falling with that damn balcony. I love you, and I always will."

"You love me?" Gerard smiled and twirled a strand of hair around his finger. "You're the second person to ever tell me that."

I felt like crying, I really did. It killed me to hear Gee say only two people have told him that they love him. A couple tears fell from my cheeks, but I tried to force most of them in.

"Don't cry, sugar," he hushed and touched my hair. Not like those girls that start petting your head and going 'pat.pat.pat' or anything. He ran his fingers swiftly and lovingly through my hair. "Now remember, don't cry. I'm perfectly fine, I'm really grateful to have someone like you, I want to thank you for being there for me all this time."

I wiped them up with my palms, and Gerard chose some patio chairs for us to sit in. "I'm going to order something delicious in the restaurant. And after this and the costume store, let's rob a bank, shall we?"

"I'll keep thinking about it." I watched Gerard go inside, and I started fangirling within my mind. I meant every word that I said to him, every single word. I wondered if he listened to the whole thing or if he just perked up from the love part.

This ear-splitting noise erupted from the shop. I knew this sound. Bullets.

Notes

thanks for the feedback on the question if I should continue or not ^^ I think it's natural that some kinds of writers think their stories suck, so they can improve and all. I guess I'm that kind of writer.