Skin and Bones

I wake up by a dragging sound. I open my eyes and look around the room, but there’s nothing unusual going on.
The dragging sound returns and seems to be coming from the ceiling.
I lift my head and look over Gerard’s chest at the clock. 8:45.
I haven’t slept long.

“You awake?” Gerard whispers, and I look up at him. I lay my cheek on his chest facing him and smile.
A hand runs through my hair and I close my eyes and sigh at his touch.
“Feeling better?” I smile wider before I nod. Gerard’s hand has settled in my hair at the back of my head and I lean back against it.
The dragging sound returns.

“What is that?” I mumble.

“Dunno. Wanna go check it out?” I sigh deeply – contemplating whether to satisfy my curiosity or my heart – but eventually nod. Gerard’s hand pulls away from me and my heart gives a painful pound against my ribs.
We both crawl out of bed and I quickly grab Gerard’s hand to keep my chest from aching. Gerard entwine our fingers as we walk up the stairs, and at the top step I tiptoe up and kiss him on the cheek. He smiles at me and looks like he’s about to lean down and kiss me, but the dragging sound interrupts.

“Oh, hi boys,” Donald says out of breath and pulls at an old, worn couch again. At the other end of it, Donna is pushing.

“Hi,” she says and quickly waves, before she pushes again.
“Break, Donald!” she yells and then stands up straight and breathes a heavy sigh.
“Phew. It’s heavy,” she says cheerfully and places her hands on her hips.

“Could you get us some water, son?” Donald asks tiredly, and Gerard quickly lets go of my hand to go get some water – leaving me alone with his breathless parents. I feel awkward. I could ask them why they’re moving an old couch around, but I don’t wanna pry. I hate prying.
Donna wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, while Donald is polishing his glasses as he’s wiping his forehead with his sleeve. They both look exhausted. I’d love to help them, but I honestly don’t think I could move that huge couch one inch.

“Here!” Gerard says loudly as he returns and I inwardly sigh in relief.

“Thank you,” Donna says greedily and immediately gulps down half the glass of water as soon as it’s in her hands. Donald just sticks with small sips.

“Ah, that was good,” Donald sighs in satisfaction.

“So, what’re you doing?” Gerard asks – saying what I didn’t dare to say – and takes my hand in his again. I gaze at nothing for a second as I focus on the feel of his hand.

“Cleaning out the storage room,” Donald answers between sips. He looks at me.
“It used to be Gerard’s room, but when he found out the basement was livable, he begged us to move down there instead.” Donald laughs at Gerard, before he takes another sip.

“We finally agreed after months of him begging, so his room became storage.”

“Now it’s just full of old shit.”

“Donald!” Donna says outraged, but still slightly amused.

“What? It’s true!” I giggle quietly at the two as they start bickering over whether or not Gerard’s old room is filled with ‘old shit’ or ‘fond memories’. My giggles are easily hidden behind Gerard’s laughter.
“Donna! Look at this couch. How can you call this a fond memory?” Donald points at the couch with both his hands while his shoulders are shrugged and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Donald! Don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?” Donald yells.
Donna doesn’t break eye contact with her husband, but her cheeks quickly turns a bright shade of red.

“This is the couch that our boys were…conceived on.” Gerard suddenly lets go of my hand and takes a few steps back.

“Oh fucking ew!” he screams. I bite back a laugh.
“Fucking…no!” He holds his hands up in front of him, as if the couch is about to attack him. I let out a squeaky chuckle.
“And to think I was about to offer my help on moving it!” I can’t hold it in anymore. A bellowing laughter breaks free from my mouth and I have to close my eyes to keep the tears in. I grab my stomach as it starts cramping.
“Oh, shut up,” Gerard says playfully, before he ruffles my hair. It calms me down and I wipe my tears away as I hum and sigh to catch my breath.
“Why’re you cleaning out the storage anyways?” I sigh one last time and use my sleeve to wipe my eyes dry. Donald and Donna don’t answer, so I look up at them. They’re both looking at me caringly.

“It’s gonna be Frank’s room.”