The Black Parade

My breath came out in short gasps, as I was entirely shocked by the sudden change of events, or maybe because I was making out with Gerard. Yes, making-out, his gentle, heartfelt kiss had soon turned aggressive and passionate, most likely due to the fact that he was still straddling me.

He lifted my back off of the cold stone floor with his free hand, forcing our torsos even closer, my arms soon wrapped around his neck, his free hand left my back, leaving his body entirely on top of mine. His hands soon started wandering... my never used hormones couldn't take it, and made my body start to kiss back furiously. I felt him smile into the kiss, I did as well, and his warm tongue wormed its way into my mouth.

His hands started to wander even farther up my nightgown, making my blood want to evaporate from heat, but he pulled away suddenly. He stood up and backed a few paces away.

"No, I can't do this." He said sternly, more to himself than me.

I stood up too, walking towards him, placing my hands on his collar, "Why not?" I whispered breathlessly into his ear.

"It's my duty to protect you and the people that live here, not fucking serial killers." He said it, but he obviously didn't believe even himself.

"Really?" I seductively said to his chest, I looked up at him with doe-eyes, "Then protect me."

"No."

He looked down at me; I walked to the other side of the room, leaving him staring at the blank space that I was just occupying. I didn't know what was coming over me, but whatever it was wanted him, almost as much as I did.

I stripped off my sweater, revealing my thin body in a flimsy piece of cotton that passed for a nightgown, "I'm over here." I said mockingly to him. He smiled...

GERARD'S P.O.V.

"I thought you'd never had a first kiss." I said, questioning her rash actions, but still aching to be with her.

"I just did, it definitely wasn't the playground shit you'd get in kindergarten, but I was too busy being burned with hot pokers, by my own birth mother, even for that stuff."

I looked down; I heard a swish of fabric, and, by instinct, looked up at the startling sound. She was standing there, with nothing but a underwear on, and her scars.

I walked over to her, shocked at all of the abuse she had received, her arms and torso were completely covered by past burn marks. I had seen her naked before, but I was too preoccupied by her body, to notice the scarring.

Her legs were cut and bruised, as well, but the area around her knees wasn't, she noticed my staring at that particular area.

"Private school, Catholic school girl outfits."

I looked into her eyes, she was baring everything to me, me! Who was near to a complete stranger, yet we had still shared something amazing, which must have given her some trust. She turned around, revealing marks form years and years of whipping, there were some points where something barbed dragged into her skin, while she was being whipped.

She was a tortured girl, but she needed love, and I had loved her from the start, though I couldn't have ever admitted it.

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I slowly slipped off the black lace underwear that she was wearing, letting my hands come around her hips, resting on her thighs. I brought one hand up, briefly passing over her area, bringing it up to her shoulder. She shivered, I kissed the base of her neck, making her moan, I bit down lightly, and she turned to face me.

I slipped my hands to the small of her back, kissing her lips softly, she kissed back, smiling into the kiss as she fumbled with my zipper; I smiled and guided her hands where they should go. I let my pants fall; I broke the kiss for barely a second to get my tee shirt off.

I led her nude body to my bed, and straddled her, letting my hands move as they wanted to over her battered and bruised, yet still beautiful, body. My boxers slid off, and...

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We let imagination take us farther than we could have ever thought.