We're All Just Victims of a Crime

Frank's POV

They are dreams right? I mean I didn’t really die did I?

I was having too many of these heart stopping moments lately.

How was I supposed to answer him? With more lies that were getting harder to use? I couldn’t tell him the truth because I still had a chance to lose him.

“Frankie?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous. I mean how could you die and then be here Gerard?”

“Well how the hell could we have the same dreams? I mean the exact same one that is extremely vivid might I add,” an agitated tone had found its way into his voice. I could only guess it was the result of what I said.

“It happens all the time Gerard,” I snapped, “it was a damn dream. All that matters is that you’re here alright?”

He grew silent and his grip on me loosened before he ultimately let go of me. I frowned as guilt washed over me. I hadn’t meant to upset him; I only wanted the subject to be dropped.

“I’d believe that if you weren’t so defensive about it, Frank.”

“I’m not being defensive!” I rolled onto my back and huffed.

I couldn’t see but I was sure he had rolled his eyes along with the scoff that filled the room as he got up from the bed.

“I don’t believe you. I should, but I don’t. So why don’t I believe you Frank?”

I simply shrugged telling myself to not give in. He could continue to not believe me on the subject, I could live with that. So long as it never went further than that.

“Frankie,” suddenly his warm hand was pressed against my cheek catching me off guard as I flinched.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” he whispered.

His face was dangerously close to mine because I could feel his breath on my lips and chin. I could feel his stare and I wished that for just five seconds I could see. I wanted to see those hazel eyes so much my chest ached.

“No,” I forced more so for myself.

“It’s eating away at you, whatever it is. You can’t lie to me Frankie,” he pressed.

Even if I couldn’t see, my eyes still betrayed me because he could see into them. Forcing them shut I turned my head away from his hand. How hard was it to just let this go?

“Come on,” he brought me back to face him, “you know you can tell me anything. I believed you then, I’ll believe you now.”

I wanted to push him away because he was getting to me and he knew it. I wanted to tell him no again but I knew that if I opened my mouth to speak, the truth would come spilling out. Just the closeness filled my body with warmth that made my limbs feel like putty. But to have his lips so close to mine where I could feel his words on my skin had sent my heart into overdrive and my mind fell into a state of anarchy.

All I could manage was a grunt in protest that was cut off by the pressure of his lips at the corner of mine. My hands shot up from my sides on instinct to grip his shirt tightly between my fingers. Turning only slightly so that our lips brushed together. I could feel his smile telling me that he knew he was winning.

Winning meant the truth and that was something I couldn’t afford for him to know. My gut instinct said to push him away but my body screamed to kiss him and pull him closer. Hands trailed along his torso to his chest and finally finding the heat on his neck.

“I love you, you can trust me,” he assured in a soft voice as he kissed me lightly.

Of course I trusted him, I trusted him with my life. Trust wasn’t the problem and I didn’t know how I could convince him of that. If it meant I could have him this close to me forever then I’d lie for the rest of my life. But he was making it hard and while I wanted to listen to my body that image of him began to flood my mind. Dead, covered in his blood and looking at me with those glazed eyes telling me it was my fault. That nightmare had scared me to my very core and for a moment I had thought it was my reality.

“Frankie?”

He sounded worried and it took me a few seconds to realize that I had zoned out again. The hand that had been on my face was gone and now gripped my shoulder shaking me in attempt to bring me back from my thoughts.

“Frankie you’re doing it again,” he stated and I nodded rolling beneath his hovering body onto my side.

“Why can’t you just let it go?” I asked with a wavering voice.

“Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on?” he returned.

“Because its just something you wouldn’t understand,” I answered.

“So you don’t trust me then,” he huffed falling down behind me.

“No!” I finally snapped.

“Then what is it? If you trust me then why the hell can’t you tell me what is going on? You keep giving me these bullshit answers Frank and I’m tired of accepting them. Something weird is either going on or has happened. All I know is that we’ve had what I assume to be the same dream; at least I know mine was. This is the same dream that miraculously changed your view of me and the same one that has you on the edge of hysterics. Now how do you expect me to just sit back and be okay with it? How can you tell me to just let it go like it means nothing? It involved me killing myself Frank, the same way I had always planned on doing it. If that’s not enough then what about that damn goodbye letter, huh? You said you knew what I was planning on doing. You’re keeping things from me and I’ve never kept anything from you.”

The anger in his voice only triggered mine and I was sure that if I could see I would have ended up slapping him in retaliation.

“No you just make a fucking run for it when your so called boyfriend is in the hospital, in intensive care might I add. Then after too fucking long you show up telling me that everything is going to be okay and then run again when I go to sleep!”

At that moment I wondered if everyone in the house could hear us. If they could would they barge into my room to see if we were trying to kill each other? Company wasn’t something we needed at the moment and I prayed we would be left alone.

“I was the reason you ran, because of me you were in the position that almost got you killed. I thought I was doing you a fucking favor by leaving you alone,” he snapped back.

“Fine if that was your God damn favor then this is mine. When I tell you to drop it, then fucking drop it okay?”

He was quiet, but only long enough to run that last bit through his head again, “if its nothing and you say I should drop it, then why are you calling it a favor? Why would you need to protect me from it?”

The lack of anger in his voice scared me. As the bed shifted I felt my nerves pull in my stomach while he moved around my room.

“What are you doing?” I asked in a quieter tone.

“Grabbing my things,” he answered roughly.

“Where are you going?”

I heard him sigh as he stopped moving, “Back to my apartment. You’re hiding things and I’m pissed off. I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret. I think we need some time away from each other.”

He never gave me a chance to reply as he opened my door and shut it behind him leaving me alone in my room. Rolling onto my stomach I buried my face into my bedding and willed the tears to stay.

What the hell had just happened?