Guy With a Tattooed Neck

I woke up , I don’t know how long after me and Gerard’s ‘encounter’. I had no other way to describe it. Nothing had ever felt so incredibly, fucking awesome before. But at the same time, I couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling that whatever had just occurred between me and Mr. Mysterious was so completely and utterly… wrong. Not that I would take it back for anything in the world, but… I don’t know…

My feelings of unease grew incrementally greater as I opened my eyes to find my bed absent of one certain, sexy, artist. My sorrow riddled heart began to take over, I mean, why should he stay with someone as fucked up as me? But then another part of me, which I didn’t even know I had, jumped out of the murky darkness, speared my ‘woe is me’ mentality and took over my body.

I scrambled out of my bed and threw on some clothes before making my way slowly downstairs. If Gerard had changed his mind about wanting me, then I was going to fight for him as hard as I could. And I wanted to at least gulp down some breakfast before-hand, preferably avoiding his wife if I could.

I have no idea where this had come from. The entirety of my life I have always been too afraid to fight for what I wanted, not truly believing that I deserved it. But after what Gerard and I had just done, no matter how wrong it had felt, I wanted a repeat performance.

Jumping the last few steps, I came to a complete halt as I almost bashed into a very spikey heeled individual.

Crap.

The wife was in front of me.

She smirked at me nastily before glancing at my neck. Her stupid features morphed into one of, well, rage.

Confused as to her sudden mood swing, I glanced in the mirror which was convieniently located to my right.

Double Crap.

Right there in the crook of my neck was a very red, very noticeable bite mark. My lips twitched slightly as memories of that glorious moment bloomed into the forefront of my mind. This was obviously a bad move as I heard a slight growl coming from Gerard’s other half, or is it third now?

Not wanting her to lung at my neck and disturb my pretty new tattoo adorning my neck, I slapped my hand over it and held on for dear life.

Just before my eyes left my reflected image, I noticed the kitchen door opening. I was expecting to see Bob appear, ladle in hand ready to defend me. But it wasn’t.
It was Gerard.

He had his eyes cast downwards, balancing a tray ladened with breakfast foods and juice on one hand whilst he closed the door with his other. Was that for me?

Thinking back to our previous conversation, before the ‘encounter’, and let me tell you, that is no easy feat, I remembered that I had missed breakfast.
Another small smile flickered across my lips.

It was a lucky thing that Gerard had grabbed the tray with his other hand milliseconds before his wife shrieked out his name, because he jumped like a lightning bolt had struck him.

He looked up sharply, taking in his wife’s angry demeanor and my existence before coughing awkwardly.

“Um… hi?”

“What the HELL is going on here?! I knew something like this would happen! I knew that leaving him up there with you and your wandering eyes would have you fucking that whore up against the nearest wall!” She screamed, pointing at my hand covered neck.

I was used to being yelled at like I wasn’t in the room and ridiculed and so on. So naturally I wasn’t paying attention until Gerard’s aggressive voice penetrated my thoughts.

“Don’t you DARE talk about him like that!” I looked into Gerard’s eyes and saw such undeniable passion there, I was momentarily overwhelmed.

“Oh so you’re denying that you two slept together?” She-devil growled out, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes! I am denying it.”

She looked a bit caught out at his response before a slight look of understanding crossed her face.

“But you bit him didn’t you.” She smugly whispered out. Gerard’s silence was answer enough.

“Well, sweetie, why don’t you take that tray upstairs, I’m gathering it was meant for your little boyfriend here, and think long and hard about what you really want. Because I am telling you right now, it’s him or me, and lets not forget who’s family it is that your art grants came from. Either he is out of here by the end of today, or I’ll be tossing you and the little leach out on the sidewalk without so much as a bottle of water to sustain you.”

With that little speech, she turned on her heel and floated from the hallway. I looked over at Gerard’s defeated expression for a few seconds before turning myself and running back up the stairs.

I had seen the look that had filled Gerard’s eyes in many other people before. It was the expression they got when they had given up, mainly on me. So much for me fighting for him. I was so angry at myself.

As soon as I reached my bedroom, or shall I say my old bedroom, I began chucking my small amount of crap into my duffel bag.

I knew I was going to screw this up.

I stopped for a few seconds to catch my breath. A small amount of me was hoping to hear Gerard’s steps running up the stairs to me, but only silence filled my ears.

Triple crap.

So intent was I on packing my things as fast as I could, that I missed my door opening.
I snapped my body upright as I heard my lost-loves voice softly floating in from the door.

“What are you doing?” I looked up at his face. He looked so mournful, like his dog had just been run over.

Szabo, damn I was going to miss that dog.

For all purposes I could almost believe that he was upset at the prospect of me leaving.

“Packing. I presume you’re not here to stop me.” His silence was again, enough of an answer. Reaching down, I zipped up my bag and grabbed my jacket. For the first time I was glad that I had hardly any belongings. I took a deep breath before walking up to my, the, painter who had such a massive effect on my life, and looked him in his beautiful eyes.

“Goodbye Gerard.” I stopped myself from inhaling once more, afraid that if I smelt his gorgeous scent I would never leave, and pushed past him.

I ran down all the stairs and out the front door without so much as a glance around the majestic house, not wanting to be confronted by his wife’s mocking glare.

The cool wind whipped my face as I stampeded down the street. I stopped after a few minutes, on the corner of a four-way intersection.

I had nowhere to go.