Mr. Way - Frerard

FRANK'S POV

I had partly recovered from what happened with Gerard - Mr. Way - earlier, or stopped crying at least. I had sat down at the table with a bowl of tinned soup when my mother came home.

"Hey, Ma," I greeted her halfheartedly.

"Hey, Frankie. Is everything okay?" she asked, a concerned edge to her voice.

"Yeah." I gave her a smile so she'd believe me, and she placed her bags on the counter and took a seat opposite me at the kitchen table. I almost spit out a mouthful of soup when she picked up Mr. Way's tie and asked, "Who's is this? This isn't yours."

Both my heart and my mind raced as I struggled to come up with an explanation for the tie that had been left behind. "It's... It's..."

"There's a boy, isn't there?" she asked, seemingly overjoyed at the idea.

"No! No, there's no boy, Ma," I felt my cheeks flame.

"Sweetie, you're blushing! Tell me, what's his name? Is he from school?" She almost squealed in delight.

"There isn't a boy," I groaned, trying to refrain from slamming my head on the table.

"Typical teenager." She smiled. "You'll tell me all about him when you're ready, I'm sure."

"There's no boy," I muttered knowing there was no stopping her now. She got up and flitted around the kitchen. I left my bowl still half full and mumbled something about not being hungry before hurrying up to my room and collapsing on my bed.

I couldn't stop the events from today from swirling around my mind, most especially the kiss. The comforting aroma of coffee that surrounded him, the blacker-than-black shade of his hair, even this hands were attractive. He was perfect, and I was sure he liked me back, but there was always a shadow of doubt in my mind. I drifted off to sleep, listing all of the reasons me and Gerard would never be together.

Notes

I greatly apologise for the lousy standard of my writing today
-N