Cupid's Web

Cupid's Web

Frank’s Point Of View

I lay back on our bed. My dog, Sapphy nuzzled against my side as I let my knuckles tenderly graze Gerard’s cheek, making my heart flutter. Yes, it was definitely still there; Love. It was like most things in my life; I could never see it, but I could certainly feel it. Sometimes I thought being blind was a blessing, yet most of the time it was a curse. Tomorrow would be no exception. I wasn’t unhappy by any means though. I lived my life to the fullest; attempting to fulfil all my hopes and dreams, but mostly finding love.

For me, ‘finding love’ had a whole new meaning. I had to search with my other senses, not my sight, and trust my instincts. Yet how could I trust my instinct when I had been betrayed so many times before by heartless fiends who found it entertaining to pretend to befriend me?

In my early years, after the horrific accident occurred, I was mocked frequently. This was the clearest vision I had ever had since the accident, yet I knew it was just a construction of images simulated by sounds in my head. Bullies. Four of them, all stood in a circle around me; making signs at me, pointing at me, threatening me with actions, but always silent. I knew though, I knew. I may not have seen it with my eyes, but I heard the sniggers and the torturous murmurs. Being brought up Catholic didn’t help either.

You see, both of my parents, whom I loved greatly, sadly passed away after the accident, and I selfishly left the scene with everything but my eyesight. I was so young, so naïve. I didn’t understand what was happening, and before I even had chance to protest I was taken into care and adopted. It all happened so quickly. My adoptive parents were strict and strongly Catholic, and most of all they were fiercely against homosexuality. Of course, at that time it didn’t seem significant to me, but as my life moved on and I grew up, my life was changed, perhaps even influenced by one lone man.

I felt his apple-flavoured lips on my forehead, momentarily bringing me out of my daze. I smiled to myself as I heard his childish voice in my head.

“An apple a day keeps the Doctors away,” he always told me.

My smile widened as he kissed my eyebrow tenderly.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered softly into my ear, reminding me of the day we first met.

I curled myself up into what I thought was a ball as I withstood the beatings. It was a regular occurrence at school now, and I just endured it. There was no point in fighting back; I couldn’t even see what I was doing, and it always sounded like the entire school was there, laughing and pointing at me.

“Please, stop,” I whimpered, more to myself than anybody else.

“Aww, does the blind faggot hurt?”

How ironic. I didn’t even realise how correct he was then. At that time I thought, sure; blind, sure; hurt. But faggot? I was Catholic, there was no way I was gay.

But then I heard him, the voice of an angel. I heard him before the others did, my acute hearing tracing his placid footsteps. Before he had even said a word I knew that a saint had come to find me.

“Stop,” he ordered. His voice was soft, like the serene sigh of a slender flute. It was certainly an instruction, but not quite a threat. Hush fell over the crowd as, for the first time in the history of me, someone interjected with the bullies.

“Stop,” he repeated. “Can’t you see he’s in pain?” He kneeled beside me and put his hand on my shoulder, probably checking to see if I was okay.

“You’ll be in pain too if you don’t move the fuck out of the way,” one of the bullies hissed.

“Maybe you’ve done enough harm for the day. Just leave him,” the angel breathed, not once losing his temper. There was a slight pause, very slight, before I heard one of their fists connect with his jaw, and the impact made him fall to his knees next to me.

“Now get out of my way,” the bully roared. I heard the mysterious boy sigh, as he whispered, ‘I’m sorry’ into my ear and stood up.

I had lost my chance. The one person who could have been my saviour had given up on me, and with so little persuasion. I tensed myself again, curling myself up tighter as I awaited the kicks and fists. Everything was silent, even for me with my heightened hearing. The man stood up slowly, and stepped to the side, most likely clutching his jaw in agony. I heard the chuckle go around the crowd like a Mexican wave, but it came to an abrupt stop as I heard, no, felt another punch. I waited for the pain, but none came, and I soon realised with tremendous guilt that it was the angel who had been hit, again.

“You faggot, you broke my nose,” the lead bully cried. Wait… did… did he… No. Don’t be ridiculous. But a slight growl from the bully rang through the hallway, and the man muttered something like, ‘you asked for it’, making me grasp that it was actually my guardian angel that had lashed out in defence. I suddenly heard another smack, but this time my saviour yelped out in pain. He didn’t seem to give up though; another gasp erupted from the crowd as he struck a sturdy blow to one of their heads. There was a thud on the floor next to me, and I realised that someone had been knocked out.

“I don’t want to have to repeat that,” the man said in his calm voice, and, if possible, I breathed a sigh of relief, purely because he hadn’t been knocked out. After several tedious moments, the crowd could be heard slowly slinking away, unquestionably gossiping about the latest fight.

As the crowd dispersed, I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know who was around me any more. Was the angel still there? More to the point, were the bullies still there?

Part of the question was answered as the lump on the floor beside me stirred, and swiftly jumped into format with his friends, embarrassed to have been seen injured.

“You better watch your back,” he muttered, stalking away. I had no idea if he was speaking to me, or to the strange protector.

I waited for two minutes; three; four; and still no sign of movement near me. With a profound sigh I attempted to get up, stumbling and losing my balance a little. As I tripped over some inanimate object, I instinctively grabbed the nearest thing to steady myself.

“Ow, shit! My jaw.”

Wait, that was the angel, and I must have just grabbed his jaw. I paused, unsure whether to speak or not, and what I would say should I choose to.

“I’m so sorry,” I finally whispered.

“No problem.”

“But… aren’t you hurt?”

I felt so incredibly guilty. He had put himself into danger for me; nothing. On top of that, he’d been injured in order to protect me from harm.

“Not really, they throw a crap punch.” He giggled slightly at his own joke, then cleared his throat, apologising for being so inconsiderate.

An awkward silence reigned over us for several moments, before the benevolent redeemer insisted on helping me to my feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked me in that tranquil velvety voice of his. I nodded, too afraid that I would start stuttering if I spoke. Once again, a silence fell between us again, yet this time it was thoughtful, more on his behalf than mine. “I guess I should be going. Will you be okay?”

I nodded again, this time clarifying my answer more clearly.

“My SEN teacher should be here soon. I guess I’ll live.” It always happened; I had an SEN (special education needs) teacher who helped me around school, but everyday after the bell rang she had to report to the headmaster how my progress had been through the day. The bullies knew this, and they couldn’t refuse taking advantage of the fact that I was alone for a good fifteen minutes.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he chuckled nervously. “Hey, don’t look so scared of me, I might get offended. Mind you, you do look cute when you’re scared. A bit like a cuddly kitten. I could just take you home right now.”

I swallowed and folded my arms tightly around my waist. Why was I so suspicious of him? Maybe it was because I was so used to being betrayed, but nevertheless I told myself to stop being so absurd and have faith in my instinct, which was to trust him.

“I was kidding,” he laughed, patting my shoulder gently. “I guess I should introduce myself; my name’s Gerard.”

Ever since that day, Gerard became my guardian angel. He walked me to lessons, stayed and talked to me at lunchtimes, and made sure the bullies never so much as laid eyes on me again. For a long time I worshipped this man. He soon became my best friend, and we were inseparable, right until the end of school.

However, from there we had different aspirations. I yearned to continue my studies at university to prove the bullies wrong and show them that I could succeed, but Gerard wanted to settle down and get a steady job locally. After much thought, I decided that I couldn’t let mine and Gerard’s friendship get in the way of my education, so I applied for university in New York and got a place there.

The last night we spent together was difficult, for both of us. I didn’t spend much time with my adoptive parents at that point. Most of my life revolved around Gerard; after all, he had helped me become who I was and he took the greatest care of me that anyone other than my biological parents ever had. That night was filled with tension and awkwardness, and I could not possibly fathom why, until the next morning. After we said our near-tearful goodbyes and promised each other phone calls every day, he hugged me. There was nothing unusual about that, until I suddenly felt his lips upon mine. Disgusted, I left in the taxi without another word, even if a slight pang of guilt did ring through me as I heard his ashamed sobs.

The thing is, I wasn’t so much disgusted with him as I was disgusted with myself. I was Catholic. It was absolutely ludicrous to even doubt my sexuality. I’d never had feelings for any boy, yet my best friend of three years; Gerard.

I went to university, and the beatings started again. I tried not to think about Gerard, but every time I was hurt I couldn’t help it. I wanted my saviour back, but I couldn’t be gay. I ignored his calls. He probably sent texts too, but it was no use since I couldn’t read them. I was so scared of what I was becoming; I didn’t want to be a sinner. I didn’t want to be gay.

A few days into the semester I met Mikey. He sounded familiar somehow, and that made it easier to talk to him. To cut a long story short, after the first semester he asked me if I was going to visit home. I told him I wasn’t, because as far as I was concerned I had no family or friends. He immediately invited me to go back with him, as he had become protective of me now and refused to leave me on my own. I gladly accepted his request and before we knew it, we were on our way to his family home where his twin brother and parents lived. He had told me about his parent’s past, how they were physically abusive to him and his brother when they were children. Mikey didn’t like visiting his parents, but times had changed now, and I think he felt that he owed it to them.

As we arrived at the house, I had a strange sense of déjà vu. It all seemed so cliché, but I was completely oblivious at the time. Of course, this mysterious twin brother was Gerard. Being my luck, I just had to see him again. Mikey was of course confused when Gerard and I recognised each other, and without a second thought immediately enveloped each other in a loving embrace. And right then I knew. I didn’t care what anybody else thought; I was gay, and I really liked this man. It felt immensely good to be back in his embrace after all the time away. I had missed Gerard. I just couldn’t admit my feelings until the moment we were reunited and I could deny it no longer.

Gerard and I discussed everything, our problems, our past, and eventually our feelings. Needless to say, we immediately got together, but kept our relationship secret to everyone but Mikey. After going back to university for the second semester, I couldn’t stand being apart from Gerard, although it did make me realise how deep my feelings were for him; I loved him. I dropped out of university to be with him, and eight months later he proposed. It seemed too quick, and came as a shock, but, how cliché, it was just so right.


We got to work on the wedding immediately, but it didn’t take much organising as our desires were simple. The date had crept upon us so quickly that we hardly had time for discussing the plans behind it.

“I’ll be fine, Gee. I’ve got Sapphy. It’s bad luck for us to see each other before our wedding.” It was a reasonable request for us to be alone tonight; it would make tomorrow even better, if possible. But then, I supposed there were exceptions to that saying, more than one of them applying to me. Did the saying only apply to conventional weddings, where there was a bride and a groom? And secondly, there was the question; could I cope with being on my own, with my faithful guide dog, and would Gerard let me in order to keep to the tradition?

“Frankie… I don’t think… I mean, you shouldn’t…” Gerard trailed off, sighing. “Fine, okay. You win. I’m just scared you’ll get hurt.”

I smiled, laying my hand flat against his cheek now. I could never see his beauty, but I felt it. The way his lustrous skin was swept tautly over his angular cheekbones was enchanting, and his eyes, so perfectly round, and hazel so he told me, lifted at my touch, as did the corners of his soft lips.

“I won’t hurt myself, I promise. In fact, I’ll stay in bed; I’ll go to sleep now. I promise you, I will be there tomorrow even if it’s the last thing that I do.”

The weight on the bed shifted as I withdrew my hand, and his lips were soon on my forehead. I sighed contentedly and raised my head up to meet his mouth. My hand curved around the back of his neck, tangling in his long hair as I brought his lips to mine. The sweet apple taste filled my mouth, and I craved to taste more. My tongue gently flicked across his lower lip; not lustfully, but purely out of our love for one another. He instantaneously parted them and allowed my tongue to tango with his own for a minute, enabling his fruity taste to be shared. It was too soon before he regrettably pulled away and kissed the space between my eyes.

“Nothing will come between us tomorrow, I promise. I’m only two minutes away. I’ll be right there if you need me. I’ll take my alarm with me.”

I grinned to myself. He always had been protective of me, but I was glad because of it. I heard him get out the alarm and button. It was a bit like a walkie talkie, but it worked at a greater distance; when the button was pressed, the alarm would sound. Simple.

He took my hand, placing the button in it and folding my fingers around.

“Two minutes, okay, and I’ll be here. I’ll send Mikey to help you get ready in the morning, okay? I love you.”

My heart stopped momentarily, writhing in ecstasy at those three words. He bent down to kiss my forehead again, before gathering everything he needed to get ready for tomorrow.

“I love you too.”

He finished packing a night bag and we said our goodbyes.

Tomorrow would be an eventful day, but it would undoubtedly the best one of my life. Only Gerard and I would share it; nobody else would stand in our way. Mikey was still the only one that knew about mine and Gerard’s relationship, but he said he didn’t want to come to the wedding on his own. That left the problem of who could be witnesses, so we reluctantly paid two strangers to witness our marriage. In some ways I preferred it like that though. It really would just be Gerard and I; together; alone.

As I promised, I stayed in bed so I wouldn’t accidentally injure myself. At some point, my excited thoughts of the next day merged into dreams, and I drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Gerard’s Point Of View

I knew where I would go straight away; my identical twin brother’s house. He already knew that there was a possibility I’d be coming over that night, although I hadn’t given him a definite answer.

Like I’d promised Frank, the time it took to travel between our house and Mikey’s house was exactly two minutes, if that. As I arrived, I grabbed my overnight bag out of the trunk and bounced up to the front door.

Mikey’s house was simple, yet there was always something calming about it. It wasn’t your typical town house; the bricks were painted dirty white with black rims around the crooked windows. Huge, luscious trees towered high above the thatched roof, framing the customary square shape to complete the antiqued look. There was a small, stony driveway leading up to the double garage. Yes, he was one of the fortunate people in our town who had a garage and a basement. He told me it was because the house was so old, but I often wondered why he needed all that space when he lived on his own.

I hadn’t even knocked before the door let out a disgruntled groan as its hinges twisted open.

“Mikey!” I grinned. Mikey and I had always been close. I mean, he was my twin, there was no escaping him. Of course, like any siblings we had had our tiffs, but we could never avoid each other for long, and the beatings that we were forced to endure from our parents always brought us closer together.

I wrapped my arms around his emaciated shoulders and pulled him closer for a hug, but he didn’t respond.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he muttered under his breath coldly. His tone was deceiving somehow, but I couldn’t work out why he would have been waiting for me. Maybe he was lonely, or perhaps even regretting his decision to not attend the ceremony tomorrow.

“Why? What’s wrong?” I moved back, keeping one hand on his shoulder worriedly. I was always concerned that he was too frail. Emotionally, that is. I fretted about him far too much.

“Come in.” His reply was indirect, if you could call it a reply at all. He never liked to admit his emotions, to me or to anyone else. As I stepped past him, I caught him briefly scanning the street before shutting the door behind us. He locked it.

The cold tension teasing the atmosphere hit me immediately, and the impact was profound. With a gasp of bitter air, I understood that not only was something wrong, something was fatally wrong.

I rested my bag on the oak chest of drawers in the hallway and followed Mikey through to the outdated kitchen.

“Mikey, please, what’s the matter?” I asked. I was getting so anxious. Something serious must have happened, I just couldn’t think of what it could be.

“It’s nothing to do with you,” he hissed. I raised my eyebrows in astonishment as his features contorted into a furious clutter of furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes. “In fact, I lied. It has more to do with you than you think.”

“Me?” What had I done?

Instead of responding, he dismissed my query with a psychotic cackle, which he quickly smoothed out into a sly smirk. I knew Mikey hadn’t been so well lately, but he had refused to tell me why and now… was he insane? I recognised the malicious glint in his eyes from our childhood; perhaps from when our parents cruelly beat us, except this time it was much more relentless; meaningful, if you will.

No. It was ridiculous to talk about my own brother like that. I knew just from seeing him that he wasn’t happy, but my mind was taking it to extremes.

“I’ll… I’ll explain in a minute. Could you go and fetch us some beer from the basement, please?”

I blinked in surprise. Since when had my innocent brother started drinking alcohol to drown his sorrows? I almost objected, but the pain in his expression was too evident. Whatever he was suffering must have been horrific.

I sighed; defeated. A drink on my stag night wasn’t so bad, but it was more the fact that Mikey was obviously drinking for a reason other than celebration. Without another word, I sauntered along the familiar hallway, and opened the door down to the basement. It was pleasantly cool after the heat of the kitchen, but the shivers soon touched my spine in the darkness. I hunted around for a light switch, thrusting my palm into unselective pieces of wall before hearing the flicker of lights ticking on.

I glanced around the basement, searching for alcohol; beer, wine, anything. But there was absolutely nothing down here.

Just as I was beginning to ponder why Mikey would send me here, I heard a violent slam behind me, and the click of a lock. My forehead wrinkled in bewilderment, and I turned around to survey the happenings. The thump thump thump of my heart was gradually growing unsteady as I edged towards the door. Had the wind blown it shut? I dismissed that thought immediately, knowing full well that there was no draught down here.

I slowly laid my hand across the door handle, inhaling shakily as I turned it and pulled on the door. It was locked.

“Mikey?” I demanded. I put all my effort into maintaining my composure and staying calm, just like I had all those years ago when Frank and I met, yet when I got no response, I began to panic.

“Mikey?!” I screeched, disregarding the thought that maybe Mikey had been behind this. But why else would he ask me to come down here, when he knew there was nothing here? And what was with the whole petulant attitude that evening?

“Don’t be so stupid,” I muttered to myself. “Mikey, I’m locked in. Could you help me please?”

Although I managed to sound relatively calm, my whole body was convulsing with fear. My instinct knew that nobody else could have done this but him, although I refused to believe it.

“No can do, bro,” he replied smugly.

Shit. I was right.

He had me right where he wanted me.

“Mikey, let me out!”

Silence.

“We can talk about whatever you want, just please, let me out!” I was pleading now. Mikey could be extremely stubborn when he wanted to be, but I already knew he’d make me hear whatever he had to say before he’d even consider letting me free. Like I said, it must’ve been serious.

“Let you out,” he snorted. “What, so you can go and marry the love of my life, who you stole from me?!”

My eyebrows sketched contours into my forehead as I tried to decipher what he meant. It took a while to register that there was only one person he could be talking about. The person I was in love with; the man I was marrying. The soul which I cared for so devotedly; Frank. But I still didn’t fully comprehend what he meant.

“What do you mean?” I asked quietly, completely unsure of the answer I would receive.

“Oh don’t act like you have no idea. You know, I’m sure you just enjoy watching my face as you torture me… pretending to be all ‘Aww, Mikes, what’s wrong?’ You don’t give a shit how I feel. Right from the moment Frank re-entered your life, your existence revolved around him; nobody else mattered to you, not even I did.”

I tried to interrupt, perhaps even beg, to assure him that he was utterly wrong, but he hissed at me to be quiet, and, although I was usually the dominant twin, for some reason I obeyed.

“But that’s not what bothers me. I could have easily lived without you. In fact, I did at university, but the point is you’ve not really been here for years… you and your little dream world,” he seethed. “Of course, everything is so perfect for you and little Frankie. You even have the nerve to flaunt it in my face when you know full well that he was mine first!”

I didn’t have any power left in me to speak. My vocal chords failed me as my brain processed his beliefs. Was he trying to say that he loved my Frank? That he got there first therefore he was entitled to Frank? That I stole Frank from him?

“And of course, my poor Frankie fell for it all – your façade that is. He really thinks you love him -”

“- I do love him!”

“Shut up, Gerard. Nobody asked you to speak!” Mikey shouted angrily, effectively shutting me up. I had no choice but to listen to him as he continued on, but in a slightly quieter voice than before. “He loved me back then, I know it, and I loved him back. Hell, I still do. But then you come along, Mister ‘I-get-everything-I-want’ and stole him from me. And now I’ve had enough of your sickening lies!”

As it finally sunk in that he thought my love for Frank was feigned, and I had stolen him off Mikey just to get some kind of revenge, my head fell, mirroring the movement of my heart which plunged through my stomach.

Now it all made sense… it was my wedding night. He had said he was hoping I’d be here. He’d been acting strange since I got here. Now he had locked me in the basement, and he wasn’t planning on letting me out.

He was going to attend my wedding as me, Gerard Way, and marry my oblivious Frankie. And there was absolutely no way of stopping him.

“Mikey… no! Please, no!” I begged as I caught on. He couldn’t… not tonight, not the night before my wedding.

“I would apologise, but you deserve this,” Mikey spat. “I’m ashamed to be related to such a piece of filth.”

“Not now, not before our wedding. Please…” But it was too late, and I knew it. Mikey’s mind was made up, and his harsh footsteps padding back to his bedroom confirmed that.

“Please, Mikey… please!

I was desperate now; my breaths becoming ragged as I fought with the tears that were beginning to overwhelm my body. I couldn’t give up. I had to persist, for Frank. I did love him, with all my heart in fact. Mikey was right in that sense though, my whole world had been centred around Frank, and I had barely spared a thought for how Mikey might have felt.

No. I couldn’t talk like that; I had to try to stay calm and think positively.

“Mikey, please! Let me out, please!

Any traces of composure evaded me as I broke into undignified sobs, pounding my fists against the door, using all the strength I had in a pitiful attempt to break it down. I tried the lock again, yanking the handle down with all my might, but it was too strong. My sobs turned into moans; screams of agony and anguish, drowning me in a pool of sorrow, and, dare I admit it, envy.

With another cry I realised that I’d just made his plan easier. It was too late to persist now; he had me right where he wanted me. I should have made him confess his feelings for Frank whilst we were still in the kitchen, I should have persisted then, not now. We could have talked sensibly, reasoned with each other and nobody would have been hurt. I had even left my night bag with everything in it in the hallway ready for him; my tuxedo, my shampoo, my aftershave. He would even smell like me to fool Frank even further.

I just wish I had some way of contacting Frank, telling him to call for help, telling him not to show up tomorrow. But I had nothing but the alarm, which was useless, even if Frank set it off. I hoped he didn’t injure himself whilst he was on his own; that would be pure torture upon torture.

All that was left for me to do now was pray that Frank would realise something was wrong. Horribly wrong. I knew how accurate Frank’s senses and intuition were, so I had to trust him to realise something was wrong.

Frank’s Point Of View

That morning, I had awoken suddenly, but not suddenly like you awake from a nightmare; this was because of excitement and nerves. As soon as I had stretched the kinks out of my muscles, the butterflies inside my stomach began jerking around like violent wasps, stinging my insides in a desperate appeal to flee. I clung to them tightly though, as although they represented some of my most intimate fears, they also symbolised my utmost euphoria.

Mikey had been around that morning to help me get ready, as promised by Gerard, and he assured me that I looked stunning and that the man I was marrying would be dazed by my beauty. He had left in a hurry though, telling me that he had other business to attend to…

“Frank, I must be off… I have a meeting to go to. Gerard hired a limousine for you to get to church. He talked to the driver himself to make sure he would keep you safe and walk you to and from the limo. Good luck.” He had sounded almost… conceited. I must have misinterpreted his excitement.

When the limousine arrived, the driver rang our doorbell and made sure I got inside the vehicle safely, and, as requested by my husband-to-be, walked me inside the church where the priest and two strangers were waiting.

The priest was extremely kind, and very welcoming. I had a feeling that if he knew I had previously been Catholic he wouldn’t be so pleasant, but I was grateful that even in a vicinity where gay marriage was legal, he was one of the only ones that agreed to marry us.

I stood perfectly still as I waited for Gerard to arrive; too afraid to move in case I injured myself and spoilt our day. The longer I waited, the harder the wasps stung, the more venom was injected into my thoughts, and gradually the nerves got the better of me. I didn’t mean that in the sense that I was having second thoughts, of course I wasn’t. But my mind wandered onto subjects that weren’t suitable for the happiest day of my life… the most important day of my life.

The only day of my life where I truly cared that I couldn’t see.

I wouldn’t be able to see my fiancé, my husband, my true love. I wouldn’t be able to see the beauteous decorations lining the walls of the church. I wouldn’t even be able to see the ecstatic grins on our faces as we repeated our vows.

Somehow, being blind was like one twisted joke. It was like playing a game of blind date. You had to choose someone based on their personality; looks didn’t come into it. In a way that was good; it meant there was no prejudice on your behalf, but unlike a mere game, where the face of the date would be revealed all too soon, I would never set eyes on Gerard. My illusion of him was just that; an illusion and nothing more. A mere image assembled by touch, sound, smell, taste.

His moist apple flavoured lips were the epitome of my vision though. His taste was amplified through my finely tuned senses, and he always let me taste him without argument.

Outside, a car pulled up and soon the doors were being pushed open almost hesitantly by the sound of the great oak screeching.

“Frank, you look amazing!” Gerard exclaimed in a strangled breath. For a brief second I wondered who he was talking about, as he normally called me by my pet name Frankie, but I then realised that he was addressing me. I beamed as I heard his voice; so smooth, like folds of creamy melted chocolate. But the delight silently drowned itself as my previous thoughts crept back into my mind. How could I return the compliment when I had absolutely no idea how he looked? I didn’t even know what I looked like, never mind my true love, whom I was about to marry.

The footsteps gradually made their way up the aisle until they reached me, and there they paused. I was glad that we had made the decision to not bother with all of the formal things, just the vows. The vows were the only significant thing to Gerard and I. Neither of us wanted our moment in the spotlight as we waltzed down the aisle, we just wanted it to be official. Knowing me I would have fallen and harmed myself had I been the one to take the walk, yet if Gerard was the one to do it, I wouldn’t have even been able to look upon him in awe.

“Are… are you alright?” He asked, somewhat unsure of what to make of my mood. I nodded feebly, reaching my hand out to search for his. As our fingers entwined I moved forwards to whisper in his ear. I didn’t need the strangers knowing all of my fears.

“I’m fine. I’m just a bit upset that I can’t see how gorgeous you look. I can’t even see my own wedding,” I sighed. I knew it was ridiculous. This was my wedding day. Any negative thoughts should be able to wait until afterwards. I expected Gerard to immediately squeeze my hand soothingly, but he subtly shuffled away from me before answering.

“You’ll be fine,” he stated nonchalantly. The layers of anxiety in his voice were clear, yet I could hear a deeper emotion than that. It was so difficult to pinpoint it, so I suppressed the thought for another time, assuring myself that he was just as nervous as I was. It was stupid to make myself unhappy on such a vital day of my life. I took a deep breath, concentrating on thinking happy thoughts; mostly of Gerard and I; Our past, our present, and most importantly, our future. I forced a smile of adoration to play across my lips as the vows began.

“Do you, Gerard Arthur Way, take Frank Anthony Iero to be your lawful wedded husband?” the priest asked.

The wasps were now frantically assaulting my body, teaming into swarms of enthusiastic reprobates as I anticipated the words about to seep through my lover’s apple-flavoured lips.

“I do,” Gerard whispered, barely audibly. I realised that I had been holding my breath as I awaited his answer, although I knew that it would be an eager yes.

“And do you, Frank Anthony Iero, take Gerard Arthur Way to be your lawful wedded husband?”

I didn’t procrastinate. The answer was obvious, and stated loudly; confidently. As the priest took a moment to say his part, I took Gerard’s other hand in my free one, so we now stood opposite each other, hand-in-hand. I was positive that if I could see, his face would be radiating the same bliss that I was currently experiencing. I hadn’t even been listening to anything that was said, so when the question, ‘does anybody present know of a reason why Gerard and Frank should not be married?’ was asked, I almost laughed at the absurdity of the question.

”Of course not,” I thought. However, my senses were stronger than ever now that I had no eyesight, and I could undeniably detect the uncertainty lingering in the air around me. I once learned to trust my gut feeling, since I couldn’t see what was happening around me, but I couldn’t just avoid trusting Gerard. So should I have trust my instinct, or trust Gerard? I was sure I could feel something wrong, but nothing was going to stop us marrying each other at this point, so I ignored the niggling at the back of my mind once again, and trusted Gerard. There was a slight silence, perhaps on my behalf as I felt all eyes on me. I grinned, feigning my confidence. What if this was wrong though? Did Gerard want this? Perhaps that was what was wrong… but he wouldn’t have proposed if he didn’t want it, so I promptly dismissed that thought.

Just as the priest was about to continue, the door creaked open again. My precise hearing picked it up before anybody else did, my head spinning towards the entrance being the main giveaway that somebody else had arrived. I couldn’t understand who would be coming now. There were only five people attending the wedding, and I knew that those five people were already here.

“Can we hurry up,” Gerard asked bluntly, although his tone was sweet. It may have fooled the others, but what they didn’t seem to notice is the sourness beneath the sweetness. Why was Gerard being so bitter today? It couldn’t have just been nerves; he was always so calm. Maybe he wanted to get it over with, so we could be alone. Yes, I liked that thought, so I stuck with it.

“Certainly,” the priest spoke politely. “I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may now kiss.”

I grinned excitedly, any negative thoughts long gone now, as I had waited for this moment for so long; the kiss to seal the deal, or more the vows. With our hands still intertwined, I leant forwards until our lips joined. The wasps now flittered up through my oesophagus and out my nose, leaving my tongue tingling and lips quivering as Gerard massaged his lips aggressively against mine. Too aggressively. Now I knew something was wrong; the kiss was distant somehow, and too desperate on Gerard’s behalf. My mind automatically pulled me away from his mouth, wondering what was wrong, but it was interrupted by a distressed sob echoing through the wooden arches of the church. I immediately recognised it as Gerard, but that was impossible, as he was stood right in front of me.

Another sob ricocheted down the aisle, and a stifled cackle escaped the man stood opposite me. The laugh sounded so similar to Gerard, but so did the sobs… how could it be? In confusion, I unbounded my hand from Gerard’s and lifted it to touch his face. I traced the unfamiliar creases, the short bangs framing his eyes, and finally his lips. The kiss… so distant. The lips… so wrong. Too chapped, too dry, too flavourless.

Wait, it couldn’t be…

“Gerard?” I whimpered. A sob was choked back, and deafening silence was all that could be heard, even by me with my sensitive hearing.

“Gerard?” This time it was more of a beg, for I was beginning to feel too uneasy in this situation. It was my imagination, my overactive hearing, it must have been. I almost smirked at my stupidity, but the snigger from the man next to me restrained me.

“Please! Gerard, where are you? I’m scared!”

“I’m here,” Gerard, or should I say the man who I had married, for now I knew not whether it was really the man I loved, replied, gracing his knuckles against my cheek. I shook it off, my instinct telling me that the man beside me was lying.

“I’m here,” the man by the door responded simultaneously, but his small squeak was drowned out by the other man.

I tried to make sense of it all; to think of it all in a logical way. Staying calm had never been my speciality, but at this moment it was crucial. As soon as the word ‘logical’ even entered my brain, I instantly knew. The only person who had known about the wedding; Mikey.

I wrenched my hand out of Mikey’s, freezing for a moment as I considered my options. Should I run when I couldn’t see, or should I wait for the situation to unravel itself further?

I settled on the first, and jerked forward without rhythm. I used the wooden chairs as props as I tried to scramble up the aisle towards who I now knew was my true love. Before I even had a chance to acknowledge what had happened, my face had smashed on the floor. I contemplated how I had tripped, but realised as I heard the angry footsteps running away that I had been pushed by Mikey. A brutal crunch sounded through the room, and I recognised it as Gerard’s nose breaking.

“I hate you,” Mikey spat, literally spat on Gerard, before marching out, slamming the door behind him.

“Gerard,” I whimpered again. This time I felt his sob, as I realised I was now cradled in his arms, my head in his chest as he rocked me back and forth.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, beautiful, I promise,” he hushed, kissing my forehead like he had the previous night. I reached out to stroke his face, traces the line of his eye sockets as I felt the salty tears trickle like a gentle stream from his eyes. His tears were perhaps of sadness, but maybe of relief that he had managed to save me… but was it too late?

Before I had time to consider the question any further, he tilted my head up, wiping away the droplets falling inconspicuously from my eyes. He rightfully brought his lips to mine. The kiss was laced with love and tenderness, but no lust whatsoever. It didn’t last for long, just a mere few seconds, but it was long enough to sample his luscious apple tasting lips again. At that point, I realised just how lucky I was to be with a man that truly did care.
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Word count: 7248 words.

Thank you so much to my beta! Please comment :]