My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Two hours passed by with me spending time on my laptop. Gerard was beside me on the couch, reading comic books, and Frank had fallen asleep. At least – I thought he was asleep. His hood was up once again over his head, making it impossible to see if he was conscious or not.

My stomach suddenly growled loudly, and Gerard grinned over at me.

“Hungry?” He asked.

“That’s kind of a rhetorical question, isn’t it?” I said back.

Gerard just smiled and stood up, “I’m going to give you an in-depth tour of our bus, so you’ll never go hungry again.”

I jumped to my feet, following Gerard as he walked over to where a bunch of cupboards were situated.

“This is where we keep our games.” He told me, opening the cupboard to reveal a bunch of video games for Xbox and Playstation 2.

“Obviously this is the lounge.” Gerard gestured to where we had just been sitting, “And right here…” He led me over to an area filled with numerous cupboards, “Is our personal kitchen.”
Gerard swung open one of the bigger cupboards and I was surprised to see a mini refrigerator behind it.

He continued opening cupboards, exposing a bunch of food – bread, canned foods, cereals, vegetables, fruits, you name it – a microwave, a coffee machine, and finally, a toaster.

“All of our cutlery and stuff is down here.” Gerard pulled open a few drawers to show me.
“You know where the bathroom is, and the bunks are back there.” He pointed over his shoulder to a closed door. “Your bunk is back there too, in case we need to spend the night on the bus.”

I nodded, my stomach letting out another unmistakable growl.

Gerard chuckled, moving away from the counters in the mini kitchen and opening the door to where the bunks where.

“Cook whatever you want…just make sure you make enough for everyone.” He said, before disappearing behind the door.

I rummaged through the cupboards, looking for something to cook when I stumbled across three cans of Spaghetti-O’s. I pulled them all out, digging around in the drawers for a can opener. I found one and dragged it out to see that it was one of those old fashioned ones.
I stared at it for a second, then attempted to pry open the can’s lid. I barely even made a cut.

“Oh for Pete’s sake.” I muttered under my breath, trying once again to- unsuccessfully- open the can.

I glanced over the counter to see if Gerard could help me, but he was nowhere to be seen. He must have gone into the other room, I realized.

I snarled angrily at the can of Spaghetti-O’s and the useless can opener beside it just as my stomach rumbled with hunger.

“It works like this.” A voice said suddenly from behind me, making me jump.

A pair of tattooed arms reached for the can opener, one on either side of my body, leaving me trapped between them.

Frank’s hands grabbed the can opener and cut the sharp metal into the lid of the can. He began to crank a small lever I hadn’t noticed before. As the lid of the can began to peel off, I could feel Frank’s breathe hit my neck. It was warm, yet I couldn’t help but shiver. I could feel his stomach against my back every time he breathed in.

“There.” He said as the lid popped off the Spaghetti-O’s can, dropping the can opener and stepping back.

His arms retreated from either side of me and returned to his own sides. That’s when I turned to look at him.

His Black Flag hoodie was still pulled up over his head, and his lips showed no hint of a smile. I felt my cheeks heat up as he continued to stand there, stock-still. I opened my mouth to thank him, but he just turned away and began walking to the door that led to the bunks.

“Thanks.” I said quietly, but Frank didn’t hear me as he disappeared behind the door.