Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

[Frank's P.O.V.]

"I can't do this."

"Of course you can. This is the legal system of the United States; they've got to acknowledge that it was self-defense."

"You don't get it. If and when he gets better he's going to deny it was ever self-defense or that he even attempted against me-"

"Will you look at the goddamned bruises on your neck? How do you explain that? Yeah, Frank, you did that to yourself to incriminate him."

"The legal system is lacking and fucks everything; they'll only see this Jersey kid with a record."

"Stealing a pack of cigarettes isn't a record."

"But it's damned fresh; the ink hasn't even dried on that offense. If I go in now with this, they won't believe me. They'll only see some punk kid wanting to get his fix of cigarettes and trying to incriminate someone else."

"C'mon Frank; put your trust in the police. I'm putting this trust in them and I usually hate them with passion. They have to see you're innocent."

"They won't. I know they're going to hate me the second they see me. I'll just be some other fag trying to get revenge."

"They won't; will you just trust me?"

"I want to but I don't trust them." I began walking away. It was pointless trying to argue with Gerard; he wouldn't get what I was trying to explain to him. Here we were, arguing in front of the police station on my act. He was worrying too much for my taste because he had nothing to do with this case. I had no evidence other than the discoloration in my neck that could go against him; there was no way in hell I could win. And the matter was that the risk was too large to take; I could lose so much.

"Get back here."

"No; I'm fucking leaving." I could hear his footsteps behind me, sounding on the pavement. I couldn't bring myself to look back and see his hazel eyes brimming over with his concern and frustration. I knew that if I did I would be taking a fatal plunge that would simply force me to into that station and I couldn't have that. I felt a hand grasp my upper arm and I shrugged it off, never once pausing. I couldn't look or else I would lose him as well.

"Frank," he implored, making a wild, desperate reach for my hand. He clutched it, pulling on it, forcing me to whirl around and stop in front of him.

"I won't," I said before he could get out anything else. "I'm a damned minor with a criminal offense hanging on his shoulders. I'm a damned monster."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're not? Why don't you believe me when I say it to you?"

"Because it's a damned lie and I know it." I was getting emotional now, my eyes stinging with fresh unshed tears. "Don't you think I want to believe it? It would mean the world to me to believe it and it means the world to hear you say it but I just can't buy it. You're living in a fairytale and I intruded on it. I was nothing."

"Was?" he inquired gently now, stepping closer to me, his body radiating some warmth that managed to touch the cold enveloping me.

"Gerard, please," I begged; I couldn't say it. In minutes, I was breaking down walls I had built up for years. Everything was whirling out of control, happening so fast it spun me around, stripping me of everything that had protected me. And now I was exposed-vulnerable. I hated it so much.

"Fine, Frank, fine," he muttered, his hand slipping from mine. And I couldn't stand it; I couldn't stand to feel his skin moving away from mine. I couldn't stand to feel his disappointment in me. Feeling that made me remember everyone who had been disappointed in me, all those people who decided bothering with me was useful. But all I could do was stare dejectedly at the dirt-encrusted pavement beneath my feet. I couldn't bring myself to say anything, choked up as I was and I simply stared down at the ground.

"Frank?" I shook my head.

"I'm done." I turned around, walking away as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Where will you go?"

"I don't know," I confessed, walking aimlessly down the sidewalk.

"Come back." Though his voice was a whisper, a simple command floating on the wind, I heard it. Despite the little voice in my head imploring me to continue, I paid attention to the tugging at my heart and I turned around. I was looking into his hazel eyes, pools of molten gold shining in his pale, drawn face. Against my will I stepped towards him, my footsteps heavy and loud to my ears. And then I was in front of him, still staring resolutely at the floor, forcing myself to not lose myself in his shining eyes.

His fingers clutched lightly at my chin, forcing my eyesight up to his. I swallowed hard, fighting the pull I felt to fall into his eyes. I couldn't do this; I couldn't allow myself to fall any further. "I'm sorry," he muttered, leaning closer, his breath falling softly on my face. I didn't mind at all as I was trying so hard to stop staring at his precious parted rose lips. "But you've got to do this, if not for me, for yourself."

"It was never a matter of doing this for you or not," I whispered in response. "It was the matter of leaving you if I was condemned. You don't know; I could lose my family, my friends and you all at once. I can't have that, Gee. I can't just lose everything I have." He shook his head, leaning closer still so that our skin was nearly brushing.

"You won't lose everything; I'll always be here," he whispered, his lips just barely moving against mine as he spoke. And then he was kissing me again, a chaste kiss that whispered of his commitment to me. I threw everything out of the metaphorical window in my head. I just threw out every warning sign, every caution, for the bliss that his promise brought. The tears that had pooled in my eyes disappeared now, leaving my face dry as I deepened the kiss, needing this. He matched my fervor, wrapping his arms around me so he could tenderly bring me closer to his body.

Despite the force with which we kissed each other, there was tenderness behind it, a love that surpassed my expectations. His hands moved then from my back to my hair, gently burying his fingers in the locks. He pulled back, looking at me softly, his kiss-swollen lips parted. "I'm sorry," he apologized, looking directly in my eyes. I got a flashback to the scene in the kitchen when he lied to Mikey while looking at him in his eyes. I felt my jaw clench, my lips pursing, and my eyes hardening. He shook his head, "I swear to you, I'm not lying. I'm so sorry, Frankie." His eyes shone with sincerity and tears and I sighed, guilt twisting my insides.

"I know; I'm sorry." He shook his head, leaning forwards to capture my lips in his. He seemed to kiss me with desperation to prove to me that he was sincere; that he wasn't lying to me. But he had nothing to prove; I believed him. I pulled apart, looking at him, licking my lips out of habit. They tasted of coffee, peppermint and something unidentifiable. I loved it. I hugged him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. He moved his fingers in a circular motion over my back in an attempt to calm me. With a smile growing on my lips, I moved my hands down, feeling along his pockets. His breath hitched in his throat and he stuttered, "F-Frank?" I slipped my hand in his pocket and he groaned before I extricated it, clutching a cigarette pack tightly between my fingers.

I grinned and moved away before he could say anything, reaching desperately for a cigarette. He looked at me, mouth agape, shock and confusion written across his face. "Y-you were ju-just going to get a c-cig?" I nodded, a smirk growing across my face as I pulled out a stick, placing it between my lips.

"You got a light?" I asked cheekily, still smirking at him. He glared at me, taking the pack from my hand, stuffing it down his pocket.

"Yeah," he said gruffly, "But you're not getting it."

"C'mon, Gee, please?" I pouted, the cigarette hanging from my lips, stepping closer. He looked at me suspiciously and I grabbed the unlit cig as I began laughing.

"You're such a retard," he said, fighting back the smile threatening to cross his lips. He shook his head, still struggling with holding back a smile, reaching in his pocket to pull out a transparent purple lighter. I grinned, putting the cig back between my lips, motioning for him to light it. He shook his head, finally letting that smile cross his lips, lighting the cancer stick. I inhaled quickly, reveling in the nicotine that reached my lungs. I sighed, grabbing the stick so it wouldn't fall, the smoke drifting light-gray in the air between us.

He followed my actions, grabbing a cigarette for himself. And we simply stood there in silence, the smiles drifting off our faces as we took long drags from our respective sticks. We didn't need to say a word as we stood there, looking out at something neither of us could really recall even minutes later. It was dangerous, this entire situation, the way we expressed our emotions without a second thought. I honestly would have preferred Gerard was not involved in all this, not involved with me. But then I kept thinking on his gentle kisses, his tender touch, the smile that graced his lips and the twinkle in his hazel eyes and I simply forgot every trepidation.

His fingers linked with mine, letting my cold hands regain some warmth. He flashed me a smile, swinging our intertwined hands between us. I smiled back, forgetting all about my cigarette. This was dangerous, this had to be dangerous, I thought as I gazed at the swirling cloud dancing before my hard eyes. But when I looked back at him and saw his thoughtful face the thoughts disappeared as the smoke did, allowing my features to soften.

Perhaps the hard attitude I had adopted, the whole "Fuck the world" slogan was not necessary. Perhaps I had only ever focused on the tough aspects, the tragedies and mishaps. Perhaps I had avoided the news because of my inability to realize that despite all the problems, there was hope. I had found my hope, my reason to hold my head high and find beauty. I looked at him, letting a smile cross my lips. He returned the smile, squeezing my hand gently in his, clutching at his cig with his other hand. I dropped my own, crushing it beneath the heel of my shoe. He mimicked my movements, grinding his into the ground.

"Ready to go in?" he asked gently, exhaling one last puff of smoke. I took a deep breath and nodded slowly. I could only hope that I didn't find myself doomed in his waiting clutches.