Frank had fallen asleep again and I started to sketch him. His linear structure was perfect to draw and I enjoyed perfection to an extreme. Maybe it was because my life was so far from perfect I took solace in making things in my imagination perfect as I could.

I finished sketching out Frank and started in on the fine detailing. Every little needle hole in his arm, the way his eyebrows curved, the little ring he had in his lip that he probably begged his parents for. The blush in his cheeks was an improvised detail although, for my boy in blue looked as pale as death itself.

I hadn't noticed he was awake and watching until he cleared his throat and spoke up, "Gerard what are you drawing?"

"Oh uh, you." I stuttered and blushed.

He smiled weakly. "Can I see?" He said his voice cracking.

It brought a tear to my eye to hear his voice so hoarse and hurting. I handed the paper over and he smiled.

"Its good baby." Realizing what he said he covered his mouth quickly.

I laughed and leaned in to kiss his forehead and move the strip of black hair out of his face. I smiled at him.

"I'm sorry." He said with his blush so bright compared to his pale skin I thought he was on fire.

I kissed him softly. "Don't be honey. You can call me baby as long as you really mean it."

He smiled and kissed back. "Gerard, I mean it."

I smiled widely and stroked his hair. I had this tugging feeling in my stomach that wouldn't go away. I felt something was extremely wrong with something.

And thats when I got caught.