Status: thinking of deleting and possibly starting all over again.
Collide To The Sound Of Our Heartbeat.
We'd Do It Again.
Gerard’s Point of View
I just lay there, the sheets pulled up against me as I rested against the headboard, watching her every move.
“We shouldn’t have done this…” she mumbled.
This was like a routine, every fucked-up hour just like the rest. Her saying it was wrong, and then tomorrow, we’d do it again.
“Gerard…” she said, standing up straight after pulling on her white trainer pumps, turning to face me. Her short black hair was unruly, her bright, icy blues with the same, practiced emotion. Her dress was still slightly rumpled from when she pulled it on hastily, not bothering to put the skin tights back on. She sighed and rolled her eyes when she didn’t get an answer from me, like always, and shrugged on her coat, buttoning it up and doing up the belt.
“Gerard,” she whispered, looking up at me, smoothing down her hair, the stud of her lip-ring glinting in my bedroom light.
“You kill me.”
She stopped at the difference of the routine, her eyes wide, worried almost.
“What are you – what do you m-”
“Just go, Sydney.”
She just stood there, dumbstruck, her mouth slightly open.
“What… n-no,” she stammered, taking three swift steps towards the bed I was sat on, dropping next to me. She looked at me, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Do I kill you? Do I really?” she whispered, her eyes filling slowly with tears, brimming to the edge.
“Yes.”
“How? Why?” she cried, her eyebrows raised and eyes wide. She was hysterical, almost, whereas I was calm.
“Huh, Gerard?! How do I?” she cried, shaking my arm violently. I yanked it away, throwing back the covers and getting out of bed, walking into my bathroom and snapping the door shut.
When I came out five minutes later, she was still there, sitting on my bed. Her make-up had run badly, mascara tracks down her cheeks.
“Am I just a good fuck for you, Gerard?” she whispered, her tears still dripping rapidly down her face, her hands wringing themselves in her lap.
“You know that’s not true, Sydney,” I said, sighing. I sat on the bed next to her, pulling on a plain black shirt that lay on the floor, after I noticed I was just wearing boxers.
“I don’t know anything, anymore. Just that, apparently, I kill you. Do you know how that makes me fucking feel? It feels like I… like I-”
“Sydney, God,” I uttered, and she just looked at me, sniffing. I turned, facing her, taking hold of her hands in mine. I looked deep into her blue eyes, loosing myself in them.
“I love you.”
Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide and shocked.
“Y-you what?!” she whispered, blinking. I smiled at her, giggling once.
“But Gerard… you – I thought you were-”
“I never said that-”
“I love you, too.”
I grinned at her, leaning over and pecking her softly on her smiling lips.
I just lay there, the sheets pulled up against me as I rested against the headboard, watching her every move.
“We shouldn’t have done this…” she mumbled.
This was like a routine, every fucked-up hour just like the rest. Her saying it was wrong, and then tomorrow, we’d do it again.
“Gerard…” she said, standing up straight after pulling on her white trainer pumps, turning to face me. Her short black hair was unruly, her bright, icy blues with the same, practiced emotion. Her dress was still slightly rumpled from when she pulled it on hastily, not bothering to put the skin tights back on. She sighed and rolled her eyes when she didn’t get an answer from me, like always, and shrugged on her coat, buttoning it up and doing up the belt.
“Gerard,” she whispered, looking up at me, smoothing down her hair, the stud of her lip-ring glinting in my bedroom light.
“You kill me.”
She stopped at the difference of the routine, her eyes wide, worried almost.
“What are you – what do you m-”
“Just go, Sydney.”
She just stood there, dumbstruck, her mouth slightly open.
“What… n-no,” she stammered, taking three swift steps towards the bed I was sat on, dropping next to me. She looked at me, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Do I kill you? Do I really?” she whispered, her eyes filling slowly with tears, brimming to the edge.
“Yes.”
“How? Why?” she cried, her eyebrows raised and eyes wide. She was hysterical, almost, whereas I was calm.
“Huh, Gerard?! How do I?” she cried, shaking my arm violently. I yanked it away, throwing back the covers and getting out of bed, walking into my bathroom and snapping the door shut.
When I came out five minutes later, she was still there, sitting on my bed. Her make-up had run badly, mascara tracks down her cheeks.
“Am I just a good fuck for you, Gerard?” she whispered, her tears still dripping rapidly down her face, her hands wringing themselves in her lap.
“You know that’s not true, Sydney,” I said, sighing. I sat on the bed next to her, pulling on a plain black shirt that lay on the floor, after I noticed I was just wearing boxers.
“I don’t know anything, anymore. Just that, apparently, I kill you. Do you know how that makes me fucking feel? It feels like I… like I-”
“Sydney, God,” I uttered, and she just looked at me, sniffing. I turned, facing her, taking hold of her hands in mine. I looked deep into her blue eyes, loosing myself in them.
“I love you.”
Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide and shocked.
“Y-you what?!” she whispered, blinking. I smiled at her, giggling once.
“But Gerard… you – I thought you were-”
“I never said that-”
“I love you, too.”
I grinned at her, leaning over and pecking her softly on her smiling lips.
♠ ♠ ♠
Song references (: