You should have never come
Chapter 35
“Please. You’ve been acting weird all day, talk to me. I’m not an enemy,”
Gerard stayed silent, casting his eyes down to his hands. His fingers fumbled with the earphones.
Gerard’s POV
Frank continued to practically stare me down, and I wasn’t sure if it was persistence or empathy in his eyes. Or knowledge.
A part of me really wants Frank to stay, but I really have no idea what to do or say. I’ve never really overcome those invisible barriers in my life, not a single one- to me, they have always been an indicator that whatever was going on was now over. I even stopped getting upset over it and all- what’s the point? Maybe the reason they were eternal is because I never actually made any effort to get back on with those friendships, but whatever. But now was kind of different. I had to put in effort. He was my first kiss. I lost my fucking virginity to him for god’s sake, and that kind of mixes things up.
“It’s alright Frank,” I tell him, because I really have nothing else to say, being an awkward piece of shit that I am. I try to stop fumbling with the earphones and tuck them under the pillow. It also takes effort to not start biting on my cheek or nibbling on my lips the way I always do when I’m nervous. I mean, I wouldn’t really call this nervous. I don’t know how to explain it, honestly.
Frank takes a step forward and finally sits down next to me on the bed; very close, I must mention, as if meaning to hug me or kiss my cheek. I stay still, ready to feel his arms around me, but they don’t come. Instead, he stays absolutely still.
“You seemed kind of distant today, you didn’t really talk to anyone and all… I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks once again. I can’t tell his emotions from his speech, it sounds a bit like hesitation and.. annoyance? Sometimes Frank doesn’t make sense.
“Yeah, really,” all the doubts I had about confronting him about the speed of our “relationship” completely vanished in an instant- he already seems stressed, and I wouldn’t want him to worry about me being an idiot. I have empathy. I am not going to tell him anything. I decide to just carry on as if nothing really bothers me at all. The easiest way, I know. I’ve never been the one to choose a harder option, really.
“You seemed kind of upset today, too,” I say, sounding awkward and out of place in the quiet room. Frank didn’t even bother to switch on the lights when he came in, so the space was pretty much pitch-black, except for the faint moonlights radiating from the window.
“I, uh,” Frank shivers slightly and turns away from me, closing his eyes. ‘I don’t know, it’s just not a good day. You seemed to be mad at me, mom isn’t picking up her phone and uh, it’s just very gloomy today. Rainy and all, it gives me a headache,” he sighs loudly, pausing. I don’t expect him to say anything else, when he continues: “My mom has diabetes, she might be in the hospital, I’m not sure. That’s why I was, uh, weird,” he finishes and I notice that his fist is tightly clenched, his knuckles pale. Oh man.
“Oh,” I utter. Do I pat him on the back and tell him that he shouldn’t worry and that everything will turn out okay? Should I hug him? Kiss him?
My heart beating wildly in my chest, almost as if it’s my first time touching him, I lean over to hug him. However, he stands up right that second, leaving me in a strange, unnatural pose on the bed, my cheeks immediately going red. His saddened expression hardens again.
“Hey, Gerard, you wanna go to my room? I’m scared the guys are gonna come in, and I need to discuss something with you, yeah?” he suddenly suggests.
“Um, sure,” I say with a nod and stand up, quickly following him out of the dark room. Once we are out in the corridor, he turns around to briefly face me. He looks extremely pale in the lighting of the corridor, even though he’s actually tanner than me. His eyes are shiny, too, making him look kind of angry. Looks a bit like something that has just run away from a cemetery, honestly. He reaches over and silently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek in the process. He brushes some hair back from my forehead too, smoothing it down to make sure it stays in place, before quickly pulling away, scratching his scorpion tattoo, opening the door and leading me in. I decide to stay silent, because obviously, he is out of himself.
“Sit down, I’ll be there in a sec,” he tells me and disappears behind the bathroom door, leaving me completely alone. I obey, carefully sitting down on the edge of his bed. I immediately notice that the Misfits poster on his wardrobe is missing, and the room generally seems emptier and even tidier than before. Before it looked like nobody even lived there, and now it looks like they haven’t even finished bringing furniture into the room. Nothing except for the poster is missing, but the empty feeling is strong.
“Gee,” Frank exists the bathroom and, against my expectation, doesn’t sit on the bed. I even shuffle a bit, freeing him some space but he, instead, swiftly pulls a chair from the table, places it opposite me and heavily takes a seat on it. He leans in, propping his elbows on his knees.
“So,” he interlocks his fingers, his nails scratching his own flesh. My eyes automatically concentrate on his wrists, but they are completely clean. He’s never self harmed. My heart drops in relief. “I’ll just…Gerard, I’m bad at this kind of stuff, so I’m just gonna get on with this,” he glances up at me, his lips slightly parted. “I know why you are sad. I understand why you are avoiding me, okay?” his voice raises at the end of the sentence, getting louder and more high-pitched.
I don’t say anything and make the best straight face I can manage.
“I’m not av-”
“Shut up, you haven’t been talking to me all day!” he snaps, sitting up and straightening his back. “I caught you when you slipped on that damned rock and you didn’t say a thing!” I immediately close my mouth.
“Do I look like I have a gun? Why are you looking at me all scared?!” he hisses. Nervous breakdown. Never blame a person for having a nervous breakdown, they’ll regret it afterwards anyways. That’s what my therapist told me when he was helping me deal with panic attacks. Yeah, the one that gave me those gross pills that I never actually took. Frank needs to let all this stuff out, and I just happened to be near.
“No, it’s- it’s alright. I’m not avoiding you Frank, I’m just-”
“You just what? Hate me?!”
“No!” I feel my own eyes start to prickle with tears, and I blink them away, taking a breath. It takes hardly anything to get me upset, really. My small brother will tell me I look like shit, and I’ll be thinking about it the whole day. And that asshole is 13. And here is the person who took my virginity two days ago, suddenly accusing me of hating him after only one day of us not talking. It hurts more than being called a piece of shit by a little, whiny, glasses-wearing bitch.
I lean backwards slightly. I know Frank probably can’t control himself, and isn’t thinking straight. I shouldn’t get mad, and I shouldn’t break down either. Live through it. He isn’t going to hit me- maximum he can do is shout, so I decide to just listen to what else he has to say. He just breathes heavily for several seconds, his face reddening.
“I’m fucking sorry I had sex with you, okay?!” his voice breaks and he coughs violently. I just continue staring at him, not quite believing my ears.
“Frank I’m-”
“SORRY! I didn’t want to, fuck!”
“You don’t have to-” I try to speak up again, even .
“I’ve never! I’ve never been-” his hand nervously grips the edge of the chair. “Gerard I’ve never been in a relationship before and I… I… I wanted to make this right! I really did! And now you hate me, and Ballash was right! I shouldn’t have and I-”
And then, I slap him. I slap him hard across the cheek- the first time I’ve hit somebody like that in my whole life. I immediately pull my hand away, as if I just touched fire. It burns my hand, and I probably look more bewildered and scared than Frank does. His eyes are wide, and his lips part slightly in shock. He wasn’t expecting me to do that, I know. I wasn’t expecting myself to hit him either.
I look down at my hand, ready to see crimson blood on my fingers. There is no blood though, and there is none on Frank’s face either. I grip the wrist of my right hand, the one I just slapped him with, as if trying to hold myself back from hitting him again. I have no idea what I’m doing.
“Sorry,” I mouth Frank, who doesn’t make a sound. His eyes shine in the dark of the room, and I’m glad that the lights aren’t on- I don’t want to see the red mark on his cheek.
“I don’t know why I did that,” I manage to whisper, clutching my wrist to my chest. I hope he’s gonna kick me out of his room now, I hope he’s gonna shout at me and tell me to never come anywhere near him again.
“Gerard,” he says so quietly I can hardly hear it. I don’t say anything, I just look him straight in his sad, sad eyes. Suddenly, without a warning he flings forwards, towards me.
Fuck.
I shut my eyes and try to hide my face in my hands, expecting to be hit, when I feel Frank’s arms wrap tightly around me, pushing me back on the bed. He pulls me close, desperately hugging me. He buries his face in my neck, breathing heavily, just holding me against him. His body feels hot against mine, and his breath tickles me. We stay absolutely still- I because I can’t move, and Frank- because he doesn’t want to. I close my eyes.
“Please don’t ignore me,” he mumbles into my skin, and I feel him shake a little against me. I hope he isn’t crying. His arms tighten around my shoulders. “I’m sorry,”
Gerard stayed silent, casting his eyes down to his hands. His fingers fumbled with the earphones.
Gerard’s POV
Frank continued to practically stare me down, and I wasn’t sure if it was persistence or empathy in his eyes. Or knowledge.
A part of me really wants Frank to stay, but I really have no idea what to do or say. I’ve never really overcome those invisible barriers in my life, not a single one- to me, they have always been an indicator that whatever was going on was now over. I even stopped getting upset over it and all- what’s the point? Maybe the reason they were eternal is because I never actually made any effort to get back on with those friendships, but whatever. But now was kind of different. I had to put in effort. He was my first kiss. I lost my fucking virginity to him for god’s sake, and that kind of mixes things up.
“It’s alright Frank,” I tell him, because I really have nothing else to say, being an awkward piece of shit that I am. I try to stop fumbling with the earphones and tuck them under the pillow. It also takes effort to not start biting on my cheek or nibbling on my lips the way I always do when I’m nervous. I mean, I wouldn’t really call this nervous. I don’t know how to explain it, honestly.
Frank takes a step forward and finally sits down next to me on the bed; very close, I must mention, as if meaning to hug me or kiss my cheek. I stay still, ready to feel his arms around me, but they don’t come. Instead, he stays absolutely still.
“You seemed kind of distant today, you didn’t really talk to anyone and all… I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks once again. I can’t tell his emotions from his speech, it sounds a bit like hesitation and.. annoyance? Sometimes Frank doesn’t make sense.
“Yeah, really,” all the doubts I had about confronting him about the speed of our “relationship” completely vanished in an instant- he already seems stressed, and I wouldn’t want him to worry about me being an idiot. I have empathy. I am not going to tell him anything. I decide to just carry on as if nothing really bothers me at all. The easiest way, I know. I’ve never been the one to choose a harder option, really.
“You seemed kind of upset today, too,” I say, sounding awkward and out of place in the quiet room. Frank didn’t even bother to switch on the lights when he came in, so the space was pretty much pitch-black, except for the faint moonlights radiating from the window.
“I, uh,” Frank shivers slightly and turns away from me, closing his eyes. ‘I don’t know, it’s just not a good day. You seemed to be mad at me, mom isn’t picking up her phone and uh, it’s just very gloomy today. Rainy and all, it gives me a headache,” he sighs loudly, pausing. I don’t expect him to say anything else, when he continues: “My mom has diabetes, she might be in the hospital, I’m not sure. That’s why I was, uh, weird,” he finishes and I notice that his fist is tightly clenched, his knuckles pale. Oh man.
“Oh,” I utter. Do I pat him on the back and tell him that he shouldn’t worry and that everything will turn out okay? Should I hug him? Kiss him?
My heart beating wildly in my chest, almost as if it’s my first time touching him, I lean over to hug him. However, he stands up right that second, leaving me in a strange, unnatural pose on the bed, my cheeks immediately going red. His saddened expression hardens again.
“Hey, Gerard, you wanna go to my room? I’m scared the guys are gonna come in, and I need to discuss something with you, yeah?” he suddenly suggests.
“Um, sure,” I say with a nod and stand up, quickly following him out of the dark room. Once we are out in the corridor, he turns around to briefly face me. He looks extremely pale in the lighting of the corridor, even though he’s actually tanner than me. His eyes are shiny, too, making him look kind of angry. Looks a bit like something that has just run away from a cemetery, honestly. He reaches over and silently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek in the process. He brushes some hair back from my forehead too, smoothing it down to make sure it stays in place, before quickly pulling away, scratching his scorpion tattoo, opening the door and leading me in. I decide to stay silent, because obviously, he is out of himself.
“Sit down, I’ll be there in a sec,” he tells me and disappears behind the bathroom door, leaving me completely alone. I obey, carefully sitting down on the edge of his bed. I immediately notice that the Misfits poster on his wardrobe is missing, and the room generally seems emptier and even tidier than before. Before it looked like nobody even lived there, and now it looks like they haven’t even finished bringing furniture into the room. Nothing except for the poster is missing, but the empty feeling is strong.
“Gee,” Frank exists the bathroom and, against my expectation, doesn’t sit on the bed. I even shuffle a bit, freeing him some space but he, instead, swiftly pulls a chair from the table, places it opposite me and heavily takes a seat on it. He leans in, propping his elbows on his knees.
“So,” he interlocks his fingers, his nails scratching his own flesh. My eyes automatically concentrate on his wrists, but they are completely clean. He’s never self harmed. My heart drops in relief. “I’ll just…Gerard, I’m bad at this kind of stuff, so I’m just gonna get on with this,” he glances up at me, his lips slightly parted. “I know why you are sad. I understand why you are avoiding me, okay?” his voice raises at the end of the sentence, getting louder and more high-pitched.
I don’t say anything and make the best straight face I can manage.
“I’m not av-”
“Shut up, you haven’t been talking to me all day!” he snaps, sitting up and straightening his back. “I caught you when you slipped on that damned rock and you didn’t say a thing!” I immediately close my mouth.
“Do I look like I have a gun? Why are you looking at me all scared?!” he hisses. Nervous breakdown. Never blame a person for having a nervous breakdown, they’ll regret it afterwards anyways. That’s what my therapist told me when he was helping me deal with panic attacks. Yeah, the one that gave me those gross pills that I never actually took. Frank needs to let all this stuff out, and I just happened to be near.
“No, it’s- it’s alright. I’m not avoiding you Frank, I’m just-”
“You just what? Hate me?!”
“No!” I feel my own eyes start to prickle with tears, and I blink them away, taking a breath. It takes hardly anything to get me upset, really. My small brother will tell me I look like shit, and I’ll be thinking about it the whole day. And that asshole is 13. And here is the person who took my virginity two days ago, suddenly accusing me of hating him after only one day of us not talking. It hurts more than being called a piece of shit by a little, whiny, glasses-wearing bitch.
I lean backwards slightly. I know Frank probably can’t control himself, and isn’t thinking straight. I shouldn’t get mad, and I shouldn’t break down either. Live through it. He isn’t going to hit me- maximum he can do is shout, so I decide to just listen to what else he has to say. He just breathes heavily for several seconds, his face reddening.
“I’m fucking sorry I had sex with you, okay?!” his voice breaks and he coughs violently. I just continue staring at him, not quite believing my ears.
“Frank I’m-”
“SORRY! I didn’t want to, fuck!”
“You don’t have to-” I try to speak up again, even .
“I’ve never! I’ve never been-” his hand nervously grips the edge of the chair. “Gerard I’ve never been in a relationship before and I… I… I wanted to make this right! I really did! And now you hate me, and Ballash was right! I shouldn’t have and I-”
And then, I slap him. I slap him hard across the cheek- the first time I’ve hit somebody like that in my whole life. I immediately pull my hand away, as if I just touched fire. It burns my hand, and I probably look more bewildered and scared than Frank does. His eyes are wide, and his lips part slightly in shock. He wasn’t expecting me to do that, I know. I wasn’t expecting myself to hit him either.
I look down at my hand, ready to see crimson blood on my fingers. There is no blood though, and there is none on Frank’s face either. I grip the wrist of my right hand, the one I just slapped him with, as if trying to hold myself back from hitting him again. I have no idea what I’m doing.
“Sorry,” I mouth Frank, who doesn’t make a sound. His eyes shine in the dark of the room, and I’m glad that the lights aren’t on- I don’t want to see the red mark on his cheek.
“I don’t know why I did that,” I manage to whisper, clutching my wrist to my chest. I hope he’s gonna kick me out of his room now, I hope he’s gonna shout at me and tell me to never come anywhere near him again.
“Gerard,” he says so quietly I can hardly hear it. I don’t say anything, I just look him straight in his sad, sad eyes. Suddenly, without a warning he flings forwards, towards me.
Fuck.
I shut my eyes and try to hide my face in my hands, expecting to be hit, when I feel Frank’s arms wrap tightly around me, pushing me back on the bed. He pulls me close, desperately hugging me. He buries his face in my neck, breathing heavily, just holding me against him. His body feels hot against mine, and his breath tickles me. We stay absolutely still- I because I can’t move, and Frank- because he doesn’t want to. I close my eyes.
“Please don’t ignore me,” he mumbles into my skin, and I feel him shake a little against me. I hope he isn’t crying. His arms tighten around my shoulders. “I’m sorry,”
Notes
it's insane to me how many people are reading this fanfic, honestly
thank you guys so much for keeping up, it truly means a lot
And i hope this still satisfies you
This was actually the first fanfiction I ever read. (Hence that was like a year and a half ago)
5/1/17