It's Not a Fashion Statement
14?
gerards pov
His small hand is cupped into mine, his other wrapped around me. The big cardigan drowns his fragile figure, and he has the long sleeves wrapped around his knuckles, which makes him look so adorable.
I can’t believe I actually kissed him. After what happened, he willingly kissed me.
I can tell by the look in his eyes, the way he slightly frowns when we loose contact, the way he tries to hide the big smile on his face every time I even remotely touch his hand or even just speak to him, that he feels something. I don’t know why he would, after what I did.
God, he’s just so… perfect. There’s no other way to describe it.
He opens his eyes and looks up at me through his long lashes and dilated pupils, making my stomach swirl and my heart beat out of my chest.
I stroke a piece of loose hair out of his eyes and cup his cheek, making him giggle slightly.
“Gerard… does this mean, you want to like… I don’t know erm-“
He struggles with his words, but I know what he means. He’s just reluctant to say it just in case it's something I didn’t want.
“Date?”
His cheeks blush pink and he nods, shifting his gaze to his feet.
“Of course I would, more than anything,”
He rises up onto his tiptoes and flings his arms around my shoulders, startling me. I hug him back and take his hand in mine and walk through the rest of the park.
I decide we should take the nicer walk back to my house, with all the shops and pretty lights.
We wander past the big high-street shops until we walk past a music store and Frankie stops at the window.
“What’s up?”
“Look,” he points at a guitar in the window corner.
He continues,
“I saved up for that guitar for years. I have saved up ever since my 13th birthday, and I sold two of my other guitars for cash towards it. I was waiting for my 17th birthday, and I would finally have enough, but then… well you know what happened. Just look at it though it’s amazing. I promised myself I would get it one day, and I will, some day,”
His hands slide down the glass and he turns away, shoving his hands into his pockets. Sometimes I forget Frankie has been through so much, and at such a young age.
Being homeless for months, and only sixteen, he’s a child for god sake! Who could let that happen?
Child. Shit.
The thought processes in my brain and it suddenly occurs to me.
I can’t date him! Or have a relationship, or do anything like that.
Oh my god! I could be arrested!
Not only that, fuck, I’m in the news all the time. There are always people taking photos of me, reporting on what I do. It’ll be so easy for someone to figure out my boyfriend is underage.
Boyfriend.
But I can’t just not date him; I can’t just let him go like that. I’d still have to see him every day; he’d still have to live at my house. How could I cope knowing we could be dating, and have to just deal with it?
“Frank, when are you seventeen?”
He raises an eyebrow in confusion, giving a slight shrug.
“Soon. Why?”
“I don’t mean to alarm you but… I’m pretty sure us dating is against the law-“
He stops in his tracks and honestly; he looks as though he might cry.
He takes his hands out of his pockets and throws his arms around me.
“Gerard please don’t leave me, please don’t kick me out, or fire me, or oh my god please don’t-“
He bursts into floods of tears and grips onto my shoulders as though his life depends on it.
“Woaaah, slow down. Where did you get those ideas from?”
I run my fingers through his soft hair, in attempts to comfort him.
“I can’t go through that again, I’d rather die than-“
I shush him, whilst he sniffs and sobs so hard into my shoulder it nearly pulls me down.
“Frankie, listen to me,” I cup my hands around his face and look at him dead in the eyes.
“I’m not leaving you. And I certainly wouldn’t fire you or kick you out, all right? Just listen to me, if we do go ahead with this, we’re gonna have to keep it on a low profile okay?”
He nods and wipes his eyes with his cardigan sleeves, making them wet. He shivers slightly and attempts to smile, but I can tell it’s forced. I take his hand back in mine, and we carry on walking down the brightly lit streets.
I can feel his hand shaking in my grip, and his teeth are chattering loudly. I look over and he is shaking really bad. I stop and pull my large coat off, Frankie giving me a puzzled look. I’m not even going to ask him if he wants my coat because it’s clearly evident he needs it, and knowing him, he’d decline and say I need it more.
I take one of his arms and slip it through one sleeve, then take the other and do the same. He tries to shrug it off, but I won't let him and pull it back over his shoulders. I walk in front of him and button it up, then tying the black belt that goes around it.
“No. You need it more. I’m all right,” he takes his hand down and starts to untie the belt, but I grab his hand, tie it back up and give him a look saying ‘if you dare, I will literally hold this coat onto you and you will regret every decision you ever made’. Of course, with a little more persuading, he finally gives in and keeps the thick heavy coat on.
“Thank you,” he whispers, the cold October fog coming out in clouds as he talks.
I sigh and wrap my arm around his waist, as he leans his head on my shoulder and we walk back down the dark road.
We’re nearly at my house, because the road now has barely any lighting and it's really quiet round here. I wanted my house in the quietest, most discreet place in New York, so that it’d be easy to access exit and entrance to the highways without having to struggle through busy New York traffic. Also, the less people who know where I live, the better. If I ever stay in the center of New York, I always have people outside my door now and again. And that can be extremely annoying.
We walk up the enclosed driveway and to the front door, as I ask Frankie to retrieve the keys from the pocket of my coat he is currently wearing. He picks them and hands them to me, as I slide them in the lock and twist. The door opens and the warm air hits me, making me feel welcome and cosy.
I allow Frankie in first, and then I follow, shut the door and lock it.
I tell Frankie to get something comfy on, and meet me again downstairs (only if he wants to), and maybe we can watch a movie or something.
He returns dressed in baggy sweatpants and an oversized jumper I forgot I even owned. It’s knitted and in a navy colour, which suits him really well. Frank suits jumpers. He looks so adorable I just want to squeeze him. But I’m not going to do that, because that will probably hurt.
When I was younger, I had a cat named Trixie, and she was like that. She was so cute, I just wanted to squeeze her and hug her so tight and I’d never let go. But of course, you can’t just squeeze people. Or cats for that matter either.
“What?” he questions me, plonking down onto the sofa.
“I was just thinking how cute you look,” he blushes and shakes his head, trying to hide his cute little grin. God, he’s just the definition of cute.
His hands tug around the long sleeves, hiding his pale knuckles. I think I have a thing for frank wearing jumpers, it’s like a major turn on or something, I don’t know. Not really a turn on just, ‘oh my god, that’s adorable, I want to cuddle’. A turn on, but for cuddles. Not so much sexually. Or maybe?
Since when did I occupy my time thinking about squeezing cats and ‘cuddle on’s’? See, I just made a new ‘thing’, my mind has wondered that far. What the fuck is a cuddle on Gerard seriously-
“Gerard!” I blink hard and notice frank is desperately trying to get my attention.
“Hu, what… yeah?”
“Jesus, you wouldn’t answer me. You were just sitting staring off into the distance…”
“Oh yeah. Sorry,” I get up and switch the TV on, noticing frank yawning in the corner of my eye. He rests his head on the sofa and closes his eyes.
I turn back around and ask frank if he wants to just go to bed, as he looks really tired.
“Yeah, I’m actually quite tired, thinking about it…”
“Well, maybe… do you want to, I don’t know, sleep in my bed with me? Only if you want to?”
He nods and lifts himself up off the sofa, following me into my bedroom.
-
I close the door behind us and flick the light off. I watch Frankie get into bed and I lift my shirt off, throwing it into the wash basket.
I usually sleep without a shirt, but what if Frankie feels uncomfortable?
I pick a clean one out and hold it in my hand, debating whether or not I should wear one.
I really hate sleeping with a shirt on.
But, I’d really hate frank to feel uncomfortable and think I’m trying to do stuff I’m not.
I’m just about to put the shirt on, when I hear Frankie perk up.
“yknow, you don’t have to wear a shirt if you down want.”
I’m glad, because they make me really uncomfortable and hot in bed. Like I know its normal but, once you start sleeping without a shirt, it's weird to then start wearing them again. For everyone else, It’s like wearing a dressing gown and slippers in bed.
I don’t bother putting the t-shirt back in the wardrobe, and instead just drop it on the ground. I lift the cover up and slide in, letting the thick sheets envelope me in their cosiness.
I bury my head in the duvet, inhaling the fresh smell of newly washed bedding. Suddenly, I feel franks arm snake around my front. Well, this is unexpected.
“Can you turn around?” I do so, and turn on my other side so that I’m now facing frank.
His soft palm slides down my chest and sends my heart beating at a million pulses per second.
His face is dimly lit, and he looks so beautiful. His long lashes and huge hazel eyes stare back up at me and it makes my stomach flip. With his hand, which is once again tucked around the jumper sleeve, he brushes a piece of loose hair out of his face. I don’t quite know what it is about him, but he is so angelic and soft and ugh, just so adorable I just want to cuddle and squeeze him until I die. Odd desire, I know; but he is just so gorgeous and perfect I wouldn’t know what else to do with him.
He gets closer and snuggles his head in the crook of my neck, wrapping an arm around me. I don’t want things to move too fast, but if frank wants cuddles in bed the same day we’ve decided we’re dating, then fair enough, I’m not going to be the one to turn it down.
I wrap my arm around him and it sends, what feels like, sparks up through my arm and around my body. I can feel his shallow, hot breaths on my skin and his body heat radiating off his delicate figure, and it makes my heart skip it’s racing that fast.
Fuck, I don’t even know what to do. He’s so gorgeous and ugh, I can’t explain. Its like frank is to be looked at, not touched. He’s so delicate and perfect; I’m scared to break him. Not that I’m going to break him, I just… I don’t know. It’s confusing. I’ve known him like… what, 2 weeks? And he’s already messing up my brain.
Notes
please read
i may not update much soon, as ive had a few gcse's and i have some more next week.
i have another tomorrow and im here writing fanfiction. getting my priorities straight.but yeah, sorry if it sounds rushed, i should be revising like crazy. fuck mE im gonna fail, and then fail at getting a job,aT money, and a house, and food, and life and ill diE.
so sorry if there arnt many updates, but you know why,, i hope u understand.
saying that, ill probably still update at least once a day (i hope)
Literally a classic
5/8/19