I Think I Like It

It happened two weeks before Christmas. Up until then, Gerard and I were in an awkward phase where we were absolutely miserable without each other, but refused to get back together. During a drunken phonecall initiated by him at 3am, he told me that I was utterly unlovable, and that I was a selfish prick. I told him he was too fucked up and broken for anyone to ever want. He came to school with cuts on his arms the next day, and I hated myself.
At the same time, though, he’d sometimes walk past me and look like he was checking my work, while his hand lingered softly on my back, or on my wrist, or he’d wink at me and chew his lip as he talked. Those days were my favourite.
The general consensus, though, was that we were broken up. It was a truth that made my heart sink constantly, feeling heavy and useless in my chest. Even Cameron, with his warm smiles and tentative kisses couldn’t chase away the darkness that seemed to settle on my skin. I was too stubborn, though, to just tell Gerard that I missed him and needed him more than I needed air in my damn lungs.

From the ashes of Gerard and I, though, rose a new comradeship between Cameron and I. He was so forgiving and understanding, his hands rubbing my back as I sobbed into his shoulder, almost screaming about how much Gerard had hurt me, and continuing to do so every damn time I broke down in front of him. He’d just hold me, rocking me gently as I called Gerard every name under the sun, sometimes chuckling and agreeing with me. When I was done, he’d kiss me softly and remind me that he thought I was incredible, and I just sat there, hoping his compliments could wash away the grungy sadness that buried itself under my fingernails. They never could, though.
What even Cameron couldn’t save me from was the nighttime. I still had Gerard’s number on a separate phone, which I kept charged and with me at all times, just for comfort, and for occasionally torturing myself with old messages. I’d stare at it for hours, flitting between desperately wanting it to ring, and almost calling him myself. The only thing that stopped me a lot of the time was that he was probably drunk, and I didn’t want a repeat of last time.
Sleeping was almost impossible. His face seemed to be tattooed on the insides of my eyelids, and he appeared in every single dream. Sometimes they were pleasant, with us kissing and laughing, and sometimes they involved him bleeding out in front of me. Either way, I woke up sobbing and clutching my chest. Sometimes I’d call Cameron, and he’d talk me down until I fell asleep. He really was the most attentive, loving person I could have ever asked for, and I genuinely wished things could be different for us.

It was a Saturday when it happened, and I was with Cameron in his room. He sat on top of me, his legs straddling mine, while I sat up, leaning against the wall. Our shirts had been long ago discarded and thrown on the floor, but we still wore our jeans, and I had my hands on his hips, thrusting softly up, so his ass rubbed sinfully over my aching cock. He leaned in and kissed me, moaning as he did.
“Jesus, Frank.” He panted, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I smiled and kissed him softly, my hands reaching for his hair. I was always disappointed when I grasped soft, sandy blonde hair instead of the coarse red hair I desired, but I didn’t complain.
I was reaching down to unzip his jeans when my phone vibrated from my pocket. I thought it was weird, because my phone was on the bedside table, and I froze. It was that phone. Cameron shifted back slightly so I could answer it, looking as nervous as I felt.
“Hello?” I asked softly.
“Where are you?” he snapped. His voice sounded weak and shaky, and I automatically fell back into that familiar ‘protect’ mode.
“Cameron’s place. What’s u-“
“Text me the address. I’m coming to get you.” He said urgently.
“Gerard, what’s happening?” I asked. He paused.
“I’ll tell you when I get there.” He groaned.
“No, now. I’m not going anywhere with you until I know where you’re taking me.” I said firmly. He was silent for a few moments, his breath heavy.
“Don’t you trust me?” he said, his voice almost a whisper.
“Of course, but you can’t expect me to just –“
“It’s Mikey.” He said suddenly. My breath caught in my throat, my heart racing in my chest.
“What…is he…”
“He’s-“ Gerard began, before breaking off into heavy sobs. I feared the worst.
“Oh, God.” I breathed.
“He’s awake.” Gerard sobbed. I was silent, my heart hammering in my chest. I just gaped at the wall in front of me. I brought a hand to my mouth as my eyes filled with tears.
“Oh my – I’m so. I can’t talk.” I laughed.
“He was asking for me.” He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Oh God, this is so amazing. I can’t- it’s a fucking miracle.” I said, still in awe.
“I’ll be there soon, okay? I just…if you want to come with me. Do you? Want to?” he asked uncertainly, and my heart tugged in my chest.
“Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll see you soon.” I breathed, hanging up. I text him the address quickly, then turned back to Cameron, who was sitting away from me, his knees held against his chest.
“He’s coming to get you.” He said bluntly. I nodded.
“It’s important.” I breathed. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“Yeah. It’s always important. You’re always there when he needs you.”
“What do you want me to do? Cut him off?”
“Actually, yes. It’s not right, Frank. He’s so horrible to you, and then expects you to come running when he calls. And the sick thing is, you always do.” He said slowly. I pulled him into my arms and kissed him softly.
“I’m so sorry.” I said. He smiled sadly.
“N’aw, don’t be sorry. You love him.”
“I wish I didn’t.” I groaned. Cameron chuckled and traced patterns on my chest with his fingertips.
“I know. So do I. But you do, and it’s okay because I know how hard you’re trying. You just can’t let him get to you. You’re so much more important than how he treats you.” He sighed. I kissed him again.
“If I’d met you first-“
“I know.” He smiled, squeezing my hand.I put my shirt back on and waited impatiently for Gerard to tell me he was there. When he finally did, I turned to give Cameron a quick kiss.
“Be careful.” He murmured against my mouth. I said I would and jogged outside. I stopped as soon as I saw his car, my breath leaving me in a rush as my heart jumped in my chest. I kept my head down as I slid into the car, doing my best not to look at him. He didn’t start the car, and I was forced to look up into his wide, hazel eyes. This was the first time since the incident that I’d really gotten the chance to look into them, and I felt my heart break in my chest. God, he was so beautiful. He looked at me like he wanted to kiss me, and half of me wished he would, Cameron be damned. But he didn’t. He just started the car and drove away.

The car ride was lonely. He was sitting so close to me that I could hear his breath and smell that damn aftershave he used, but I couldn’t touch him. He made some weak attempts at conversation, but they ended pretty fast, because we kept coming too close to saying what we were both dying to say. A couple of times, his hand reached out for mine, then he remembered himself and pulled away, sighing unhappily.
“Do I look okay?” he asked suddenly. The question caught me off guard.
“You look beautiful.” I said honestly, not really realizing until I saw the blush creeping across his cheeks. He took a deep breath before replying.
“I don’t want Mikey thinking his older brother got ugly.”
“Nah. He won’t.” I said, trying to stay casual. Gerard smiled, and it set my insides on fire.
“Last time he saw me, I was some fat guy with greasy hair and too much eyeliner. I’d like to think I’ve changed a bit since then.” He laughed, clearly fishing for a compliment. I was only too happy to bite.
“You’re gorgeous, Gee. You know that.” I said softly, not looking at him, even as I felt his eyes bore into mine. He made an undecipherable noise and pulled the car over to the side of the road, putting his head in his hands and breathing heavily.
“Gee?” I breathed.
“Just…give me a sec…” he panted.
“Are you okay?”
“Overwhelmed.”
“Wanna talk?” I murmured. He looked up at me and sighed.
“My brother woke up, and I should be happy, but I’m not. I’m fucking worried that he’ll see me and think I’m fucking pathetic. I mean, I am. I’ve been practically starving myself and I’m still fucking fat, I still cut like a fucking 15 year old girl, I still drink, and I let the person I’m in love with go because I’m a jealous dickhead. That’s not someone I’d want for a brother.” He breathed, tears falling down his cheeks. I didn’t dare touch him.
“You’re just feeling so much because you’re so happy. Once you see him it’ll all become clear.” I said. He looked at me for a moment in the way he used to, and my heart squeezed in my chest.
“God, I hope so.” He breathed as he started driving again.

It was a big day, and I expected some awkwardness with him actually going in to see Mikey. What I didn’t expect, was for him to start panicking and refusing to go inside.
“Gerard, stop being such a baby. Your brother, who you love, is in there right now. He’s been asking for you. Don’t you at least wanna find out if he could hear you that whole time?” I pleaded, pulling on his arm. Gerard groaned.
“I’m so scared.” He said, shaking. Without even thinking I pulled him into a tight hug.
“Don’t be, honey. I got you. I’ve always got you.”
“Promise?” he breathed.
“Yeah, I promise.”I said. He entwined our hands and nodded at me, pushing the door open slightly.
Marie was standing near Mikey’s bed, shielding him from us with her body.
“Hey.” Gee said hoarsely. Marie spun around and beamed, before turning back to Mikey.
“Mike…” she began, but he cut her off.
“Gee’s here.” He said bluntly. His voice was hoarse and weak from disuse. I felt Gerard stiffen.
“Yes…” she said, standing to the side. Mikey looked at Gerard for a moment, his eyes taking in his brother’s form.
“You’re so thin.” He breathed. Gerard’s face broke out into a smile and he bounded across the room, pulling his brother into a tight hug which, I was happy to see, Mikey returned.
“Jesus Christ, Mikes. I was so fucking scared. God, I was so scared.” Gerard sobbed. Mikey held him tightly, his face showing nothing but pure, fierce love.
“I know. I could hear you, Gee. Not all of it, but enough.” He said, beaming. Gerard stared at him.
“You heard me.” He said, sobbing happily. Mikey nodded and pulled Gerard into another tight hug. He locked eyes with me from over Gerard’s shoulder, and his mouth pulled into a small smile.
“Is that Frank?” he asked. Gerard spun to look at me and nodded, tears still slipping down his pale cheeks.
“Yeah, Mikes. That’s him.” He said, beckoning me closer. I took a few nervous strides before I was standing next to Mikey, who was inspecting me with that same cold, calculating look that Gerard used.
“I don’t know if I should punch you or thank you.” He admitted. I chewed my lip and laughed.
“Both, maybe. I’m glad to see you awake.” I said. He held his hand out and I shook it.
“Gerard is in love with you. Like, he is so fucking in love with you.”
“Stop it.” Gerard hissed. Mikey smiled at him.
“What? It’s true.”
“We’re uh, not together anymore.” I said awkwardly. Mikey rolled his eyes, and I was glad to see that he had his brother’s sass.
“Yeah, I know. Gerard won’t shut up about it.” He said, shooting him a look. Gerard’s face was beetroot red, but his expression was mostly calm as he rubbed small circles into Mikey’s hand.
“He won’t?” I asked, nervously.
“If I hadn’t been in a coma, I’d have told him to shut the fuck up. You still love him, right?” he asked me. I blushed and looked away.
“I-I d-“ I stammered.
“Mikey’s been unconscious for three years and forgotten his manners.” Gerard teased to diffuse the tension. Mikey rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘whatever’.
“Uhm, Gerard?” Marie asked, he smiled warmly at her, making her blush. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t jealous.
“I need to go over Mikey’s care plan with you.” She said. He nodded and kissed Mikey’s forehead before leaving the room. I thought we’d sit in silence for a bit, but he was right in there.
“I’m worried about him.” He said. I laughed nervously.
“I think it’s you who we should all be worried about.”
“I’m fine. He’s not. He’s drinking again and cutting and…shit, Frank. He hasn’t been this bad since Grandma died.” He said, and I felt so fucking guilty.
“It’s my fault.”
“In part, yes.”
“Oh wow.” I laughed at his bluntness. He shrugged.
“Just help him, okay? I get that for whatever reason you two aren’t together, but just make sure he doesn’t go back to that place. He’s so special, and honestly, he is so in love with you. He used to spend whole sessions just talking about you.” Mikey said, full of nothing but love for his older brother.
“Why did he leave me then?” I whispered.
“I don’t know. He never told me. But if he’s putting himself through this much pain, you can be damn sure it was for a good reason. Let him explain.”
“I’ll try.” I breathed. Mikey didn’t get a chance to respond before Gerard walked back in. He walked straight over to Mikey and brushed his hair out of his face, smiling broadly.
“I can bring you home tomorrow, okay? They just wanna make sure you’re all good to go.” He explained. Mikey nodded.
“I feel like I’ve missed so much.” He groaned. Gerard kissed his forehead.
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna help you work everything out.” He murmured. Mikey hummed happily and reached up to hug his brother.
“I’ve waited for three years to fucking hug you back.” He laughed. Gerard just squeezed him tighter, like if he let go Mikey would go back under.
“I’ll see you soon.” I said brightly, and Mikey beamed.
“Remember what I said.” He said threateningly and I nodded, following Gerard out of the hospital room. Once outside, he fell to the floor and sobbed. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close to me as his breath came out harsh and jagged.
“Oh God, I don’t even know why I’m crying.” He sobbed, his whole body shaking in my arms.
“Shh, honey, you’re just tired. Let’s go home okay?” He looked up then, his eyes desperate.
“Don’t leave me. St-stay with me tonight.” He asked. As always, I couldn’t say no.

Cameron was understandably pissed off when I told him what was happening.
“You’re actually staying with him? I thought you were gonna be careful!” he cried. I made sure Gee couldn’t hear me before replying.
“I know, I know, but I’m worried about him. I thought he’d be happy, and he’s not, and I think he might…try something stupid.”
“Why? He has everything he wants now.” He said bitterly. I ignored the double meaning.
“I think he’s overwhelmed. I mean, a lot’s happened to him in a short amount of time. Please, just trust me.”
“I trust you. I don’t trust him.” He sighed. It was a cliché, but it was a true one.
“I’m gonna go now. Just, don’t worry, okay? I know what I’m doing.”
“Night, Frankie. Sweet dreams.” He sighed.
“Sweet dreams, Cam.” I murmured, hanging up. I walked back into the living room where, to my dismay, Gerard was putting blankets and pillows onto the couch.
“I’m gonna stay out here, and you can take my bed.” He said weakly. I chewed my lip.
“The sofa doesn’t look very comfortable. You can always share the bed with me.” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. He laughed.
“That’s a really bad idea.” He said, sitting down on his newly made ‘bed’. I sighed and leaned against his leg, smiling when his fingers played with my hair softly.
“How are you feeling?” I asked. He sighed, his hand stilling, but still resting in my hair.
“Bad. I’m just sad all the time. I don’t know if I want Mikey to be around me when I’m like that. Especially if he’s going into recovery for his alcohol problems.”
“Maybe you need help too.” I suggested softly.
“Like therapy?” he asked. I nodded silently. He laughed a little.
“I fucked my last therapist. Like, genuinely, fucked him right on the couch. I haven’t been back since.” He shrugged.
“You fuck everyone.” I laughed.
“Except you.” He murmured.
“You could’ve. God knows I wanted it.” I murmured. He pressed his lips together and pulled me onto his lap, and I let him.
“I still could.” He breathed. I shook my head, holding his face softly.
“It wouldn’t be right.” I murmured. He nodded, clearly disappointed.
“Can I do somethin’?”
“Anything.”
“Kiss you?”
“Yeah. You can.”
“What about-“
“I know.”
“It’s cheating.”
“I don’t care. It’s you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you don’t count. You’re exceptional.”
“Are you gonna tell him?”
“Maybe. Depends.”
“On?”
“If we fuck.”
“I don’t want to fuck.”
“Okay.”
“I want you to make love to me.”
“That was corny.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“Don’t.”
“I do.”
“No, please. Not that, okay? It hurts.”
“Gerard-“
“Just don’t, okay?”
“Fine.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“I’m always sure. You left me, remember.”
“For good reason.”
“Let’s not talk about that.”
“Let’s not talk.”
Finally, fucking finally, he pressed his lips to mine. They were just as warm and soft as I remembered them. I brushed a hand through his hair and he sighed, leaning into me.
“I’ve missed you so much.” He sighed.
“I’ve always been here.”
“I know. God, Frank, I know. You’re always waiting for me, aren’t you?” he said fondly. I shook my head, trying not to seem pathetic, but my tears ruined it.
“I treat you so badly. I’m glad you have Cameron. He’ll treat you right.”
“He’s not you.” I whimpered. Gerard smiled sadly and claimed my mouth again.
“You’ve got me for tonight.” He whispered, pushing my shirt over my shoulders and dropping it onto the floor. I undid his shirt with one hand and his belt with the other, earning an impressed smirk. Or at least, a faded version of it. Impatiently, we wiggled out of our clothes and dropped them onto the floor, staring at each other, clothed only in our boxers.
“I can’t believe this.” I breathed, reaching out to touch his perfect, smooth chest. His skin was marred with fresh cuts, but I didn’t care; he’d always be beautiful to me.
“Stop hurting yourself.” I said, looking into his eyes.
“Stop hurting me.” He retorted. I kissed him to try and scare the heartache away, but it didn’t work.
I prepped him, but only minimally.
“I want to feel you. I want it to hurt.” He demanded, and I understood, so I didn’t say no. I pushed into him slowly, relishing the way he gasped, his perfect, full mouth falling open. He was so beautiful it made my heart ache. I moved slowly, focusing more on the way his arms held me tightly to him, or the gentle kisses he dotted around my collarbones.
I heard a light sob, and saw Gerard facing away from me, crying.
“Baby, I’m gonna stop.” I breathed. He shook his head and tightened his legs around my waist.
“No. No, just tonight Frankie. Just tonight, please.” He begged. I knew what he meant, and went back to moving rhythmically inside him. He started crying again, but this time I didn’t say anything, I just dropped my head and let the tears flow that I’d been holding back. He wouldn’t let me stay still for long, so I thrust lazily into him, kissing him fiercely, our mouths tasting like salt from our tears. His skin rippled under my touch, and I needed to kiss every centimeter of him. But I didn’t.
“So pretty, Gerard.” I murmured, kissing his jaw. He let out a jagged breath.
“I miss you.” He whispered. My hands slid down his body, and he raised himself up so I could reach better. His head fell back, mouth opening slightly as we rocked gently together. The faded light from the room shone off the sweat that coated his body, and I fell in love with him again.
We came almost at the same time, but it wasn’t really enjoyable. His back arched up, his nails digging at the sofa as he came, then he just relaxed back onto the sofa, his face impassive again. I pulled out and wrapped him in my arms, trying to stop the sobs that were still shaking his body. I kissed every bit of skin I could reach.
“I love you, Gerard. You know I love you.” I proclaimed. He turned away from me, his body trembling.
“It’s not enough though, is it?”
I couldn’t reply, because there was nothing to say – not now. I wasn’t under any illusions about us getting back together. This wasn’t a make up or an apology. It was a goodbye.

At about 4am, I heard coughing and spluttering coming from the bathroom, like someone was throwing up. Disorientated, I stumbled to the bathroom. What I saw was enough to make me wake the fuck up.
Gerard was sitting in the bath, naked, with only an inch or two of grey, murky water. On the floor next to him, there was a large, half-finished bottle of Jack Daniels, and a switch-blade lying next to it. The side of the bath tub was covered in vomit and – I had to look away, I almost threw up – blood. It was streaming from several jagged cuts along his arms. A quick look down told me there were even more on his legs. Oh God.
“Gerard? Baby, what did you do? Oh God, what did you do?” I sobbed, my hand coming up to my mouth. He looked at me calmly.
“Go back to bed, Frank.” He said, his voice slurred. I stumbled towards him. This couldn’t be happening. Fuck, this wasn’t happening.
“Don’t. Get back.” He demanded. I took a shaking step forward. He picked up the blade and held it out towards me.
“If you take another step forward, I’ll fucking kill you. Go back to bed.” He snarled. I didn’t doubt for a second that he probably would kill me in his drunken state. I eyed the pills on the sink and corrected myself – drunken and stoned.
“No. You won’t hurt me. You love me.” I breathed, stepping forward. He leaned back, sobbing softly.
“God, I know.”
“Why are you-“ he cut me off by bringing the knife to his throat. I staggered to a stop.
“Go away or I’ll kill myself.” He sobbed. He brought a hand to his face, and when he pulled away, it was smeared with blood. Oh God.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want to die. You know that.”
“So you’re just going to leave Mikey? The first real news he hears after waking up is that his brother killed himself? He doesn’t have anyone else, Gerard. He needs you, please. Think of Mikey.” I pleaded. His hand faltered long enough for the knife to fall into the water. At least it wasn’t in his hand.
“That’s unfortunate, I know. I can’t live like this, Frank. I just…fuck, just let me die. Please, just fucking let me die.” He sobbed.
“I’m not leaving you. I’ll never leave you. Gerard, fuck, I love you. You don’t have to die. You need help, okay? I’m gonna get you some help.”
“No! No Doctors.” He said breathlessly.
“Baby, you’re bleeding out.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
“Since when?” he asked. I stepped towards him again, nearly close enough to touch him.
“Stop. Baby, stop.” I said, finally breaking down. My legs gave way and I crashed to the floor next to him, my crying was erratic and hysterical and I felt like I’d never stop. He brought a wet, blood-covered hand out and put it on my shoulder.
“You’re crying.” He observed. I didn’t say anything.
“Jesus, fuck. I didn’t wanna make you cry. I wanted to leave quietly and let you move on and- fuck, I can’t even die properly.”
“You’re not going to die. You’re going to get out of that bath tub, I’m going to clean you up, and you’re going to get help.”
“Why do you even care?”
“Because you’re everything. If you die, I won’t be long after. I can’t do anything without you, I can’t live in a world that you don’t live in. That’s why I was born after you, because God or whoever is up there knows that I can’t be in a world that you’re not in. And I won’t. I refuse to keep living without you.” I said, my voice weak and cracking. He stared at me blankly, and I wondered if he’d understood me.
“I didn’t wanna leave you.” He whispered, staring at the wall.
“That’s not important.” I said urgently.
“Yes it is. I didn’t want to leave you, but I knew you’d be better off without me. And you are, aren’t you? You and your perfect boyfriend. The only thing messing that up is me, because I just…fuck, I can’t stay away from you.”
“I can’t stay away from you either.” I murmured, crawling forward. I pushed his hair, wet from blood and water back from his eyes and sighed, stroking his cheek with my thumb.
“What about Cameron?”
“I already told you. He’s not you.”
“But you like him?”
“Yeah, but it’s not important. I don’t need him like I need you. Please. Just get out of the bath. Let me clean you up, and we’ll fix everything.”
“It can’t be fixed. It’s not our relationship, Frank, it’s me. I’m fucking useless.”
“Don’t say that. I love you, please.”
“You’d love me more if I was dead. That’s just how it goes.”
“Not now it’s not. I’d hate you if you died. Honestly, I’d fucking hate you for leaving me and Mikey. I’d hate how much of a cowardly, selfish asshole you are.” I said, sobbing. That caught his attention.
“You’d hate me?” he whispered. I nodded, my eyes brimming with more tears. I didn’t mean it, of course, but I needed something that would snap him out of it. He held an arm out to me.
“Help me out.” He said, voice shaking. I got to my feet and wrapped an arm around his waist, hoisting him out of the bath. He leaned on me, too weak to walk on his own, and I walked him into the bedroom. By the time I laid him down, I was soaking wet and smeared with blood, but I wasn’t thinking about that.
“First Aid kit?” I asked. He shrugged. I rolled my eyes – so he wasn’t going to be co operative, then. I rooted through his bathroom until I found it, and frowned at how little he had. I realized it was probably because this wasn’t the first time he’d tried this, and felt a pang of sadness.
When I got back in the room, he was lying down, looking up at the ceiling. I sat down next to him, stroking his hair.
“Tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” I murmured. He didn’t respond, just kept staring straight up. I assumed it was because of the drugs.
I cleaned out his wounds; more worried than relieved when he barely reacted to the alcohol against his open cuts.
After I’d cleaned and bandaged him up, I pointed to a deep cut on the inside of his thigh.
“You’ll need stitches here.” I murmured.
“When did you become a doctor?”
“I took a first aid training thing a few years back.” I explained. He nodded and wiggled backwards so he was under the covers.
“C’mere, Frankie.” He said, and I slid in with him. The moment I touched him, he burst into tears.
“Hey, hey baby it’s okay. You’re okay, I’ve got you.” I whispered, holding him close, but not too tight so as to not hurt him.
“Just let me die. Please, just let me die.”
“No. Go to sleep. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.” I murmured, kissing his forehead.
“I hope I don’t wake up.” He whispered. It was the last thing he said before he fell asleep, and ironically, it stopped me from sleeping.

When I woke up, he wasn’t there anymore, but I could hear the dull sound of the TV, so I wasn’t worried. I felt really, really weird about the night before. It was the first time we’d spoken properly in almost a month, and not only had I slept with him, but I’d pretty much talked him down from suicide. What a great reunion. I slid my clothes back on and sent my Mom a quick text to explain that I’d fallen asleep at Cameron’s and forgotten to text her, slightly offended that she hadn’t asked. I almost texted Cameron, but I figured it wasn’t the right time, so I left it. I hoped I wouldn’t pass Gerard as I left, but by definition, I had to. I took a deep breath before walking briskly out of the bedroom towards the front door. Right past him. He saw me, but didn’t say anything, and curiosity got the better of me, so I turned around. He’d cleaned his bandages and put new ones on, and was nursing a tall glass of water for what I could only imagine was a disgusting hang over. His eyes flickered up to mine, and he just stared at me before turning away. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and left. Just like that, without another word.

Notes

*hides from angry mob*