Status: New story
How wrong we were to think
7
Day Four
Frank's POV
15.00
A new day, a new Motel. I had no idea where we were at this point. Every time we went outside Gerard would use his bandana as a blindfold. I guess he expected me to run away. What good would it do me if my hands were cuffed behind my back and I couldn't see? This motel wasn't much better than the last. At least the shower wasn't as mouldy.
I think the guy at the desk thought we were a couple, actually. Gerard asked for a room for two, and the guy asked if we wanted two beds, and Gerard shook his head. Of course I'd be on the floor again, but the guy smiled at us and his eyes twinkled as he handed us the keys. "Enjoy your stay, gentlemen," he said, a strange tone to his voice. Gerard nodded and grabbed me by the arm. "Come on," he paused "Baby," I gave him a weirded-out look, but he just smiled and shook his head, and dragged me up the stairs to our room. Once there, he pushed me onto the floor and cuffed me to the bed post.
"I have to piss," I said.
"Too fucking bad for you then," he said, locking the door and putting the key in his back pocket. He glanced around the room which was similar to the last one, except there was no kitchen or TV. He grunted and sat down on the bed, peering over at me.
"I might piss on myself," I announced. He just laughed at me. "Go ahead, it's not affecting me in any way," I glared.
"Please!" Gerard didn't answer me, he got up and poked his head into the bathroom. He came back to me, holding the keys in his hand. "Fine. There's no window, either," He unlocked the handcuffs and propelled me towards the bathroom with his hand on the small of my back. I stumbled, and tripped, hitting my nose against the skirting.
"Fuck.." I muttered.
"Hey, you okay?" Gerard asked, coming over to me. I batted him away and shut the door in his face, locking it to make sure he didn't follow me in. I went to the toilet first, cause I fucking hadn't pissed in two days, and then I looked in the mirror to check my nose. I swore loudly. My nose was bleeding like fuck all the way down my face. Gee obviously heard me because he knocked loudly and tried to open the door. "Frank open the door!" he yelled.
I shakily unlocked it and Gerard came in, an angry look on his face. Until he saw the state of me. "Shit, what happened?" I looked away and he lifted his hand. I screwed my eyes shut, expecting him to slap me or hit me, but I was surprised when I felt his hand gently brush my cheek. He was wiping tears away. He took my face gently in his hands and turned my head to the side, looking at my bloody nose.
"It looks okay, except from the bleeding, I don't think it's broken," he reached for some toilet paper and pressed it gently to my nose. "Here, hold this to your face to stop it bleeding," he said gently. I moved my hand up and it brushed against his as he moved away. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes kind, but then he grabbed me again and pulled me into the main area. "You're not chaining me up again, are you?" I asked. He looked at me, almost sympathetically. "Nah. Not when you're nose is like that," he nodded towards me. "But if you try and escape," he grabbed me roughly and pulled his gun out and held it to the side of my head. "Then I will kill you. You got that?" I nodded, still holding the tissues to my nose. He
relaxed his hold and put his gun away. He kept holding onto my arm. I looked down at his hand for a moment. "Can I see your sketch now?"
He chuckled. "You won't shut up until I show you it, will you?" He asked. I nodded. He let go of me, almost reluctantly, and reached into his bag, pulling out a sketchpad. He flipped quickly past a lot of interesting looking sketches, until he reached the page he was going to show me. He took a deep breath, and turned it around for me to see. My mouth fell open and I felt more blood trickle down my face when I moved away the tissues.
He was amazing at art. And he had drawn me. I gasped. Gerard moved my hand back up to my nose and pressed gently to stop the bleeding. "What do you think then?" he asked worriedly. I shook my head. "It's absolutely amazing, I mean… wow. You made me look hot," He laughed properly, not a cruel, short laugh that he would usually sound like. This laugh was happy, almost. He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it and stayed quiet. I looked at the drawing. He had just drawn my face, neck and shoulders, and you could just see the edge of my tattoos on either side of my neck. His talent for art was unbelievable.
You know, you wouldn't expect somebody who keeps a gun and kidnaps people to be so good at art, or even have time to draw!
He put the sketch pad down on the bed and looked out of the window absent-mindedly.
"What do you want me to get for dinner?" he asked. I shook my head "Don't care,"
"Hm. I'll call for a pizza," he said quietly.
"Why are you being so nice?" I asked. He looked around at me curiously at me. "What?"
"You're being so nice. I mean, you've kidnapped me, Gerard. You should be starving me and beating me up and shit," I said, touching my nose gently to see if it was still bleeding, which, to
my relief, it wasn't. I put the tissues in the bin beside me and looked at Gerard curiously.
"I'm…" he frowned "If you fucking want me to beat you up then I can just do that, you know?" he came over and shoved me backwards, giving me a small static shock that made me tingle all over. "You shouldn't even be talking to me like that you little bastard, I'm in fucking charge, Frank." He hit me sharply across the face, his nails scraping my cheek.
Then he shoved me back onto the bed. I kicked out at him, but he leaned over me, his crotch rubbing against my leg as he reached for my wrists and pulled them forwards, grabbing the handcuffs from his pocket. He cuffed one hand, then yanked me forwards to cuff my other hand to the bed post. He glared at me.
I grinned. "Somebody's a little angry!" I pouted. He kneed me in the stomach and gripped my face in one of his hands.
"Frank. You're not my friend. You can't treat me like a friend" he said. He slapped me again and I screwed my eyes shut with the pain. "You fucking cry if you want, you little dick," I felt him move off the bed and he pulled his phone out.
He opened the door, glancing back at me for a moment, before leaving. I yelled after him, but he was already gone.
Frank's POV
15.00
A new day, a new Motel. I had no idea where we were at this point. Every time we went outside Gerard would use his bandana as a blindfold. I guess he expected me to run away. What good would it do me if my hands were cuffed behind my back and I couldn't see? This motel wasn't much better than the last. At least the shower wasn't as mouldy.
I think the guy at the desk thought we were a couple, actually. Gerard asked for a room for two, and the guy asked if we wanted two beds, and Gerard shook his head. Of course I'd be on the floor again, but the guy smiled at us and his eyes twinkled as he handed us the keys. "Enjoy your stay, gentlemen," he said, a strange tone to his voice. Gerard nodded and grabbed me by the arm. "Come on," he paused "Baby," I gave him a weirded-out look, but he just smiled and shook his head, and dragged me up the stairs to our room. Once there, he pushed me onto the floor and cuffed me to the bed post.
"I have to piss," I said.
"Too fucking bad for you then," he said, locking the door and putting the key in his back pocket. He glanced around the room which was similar to the last one, except there was no kitchen or TV. He grunted and sat down on the bed, peering over at me.
"I might piss on myself," I announced. He just laughed at me. "Go ahead, it's not affecting me in any way," I glared.
"Please!" Gerard didn't answer me, he got up and poked his head into the bathroom. He came back to me, holding the keys in his hand. "Fine. There's no window, either," He unlocked the handcuffs and propelled me towards the bathroom with his hand on the small of my back. I stumbled, and tripped, hitting my nose against the skirting.
"Fuck.." I muttered.
"Hey, you okay?" Gerard asked, coming over to me. I batted him away and shut the door in his face, locking it to make sure he didn't follow me in. I went to the toilet first, cause I fucking hadn't pissed in two days, and then I looked in the mirror to check my nose. I swore loudly. My nose was bleeding like fuck all the way down my face. Gee obviously heard me because he knocked loudly and tried to open the door. "Frank open the door!" he yelled.
I shakily unlocked it and Gerard came in, an angry look on his face. Until he saw the state of me. "Shit, what happened?" I looked away and he lifted his hand. I screwed my eyes shut, expecting him to slap me or hit me, but I was surprised when I felt his hand gently brush my cheek. He was wiping tears away. He took my face gently in his hands and turned my head to the side, looking at my bloody nose.
"It looks okay, except from the bleeding, I don't think it's broken," he reached for some toilet paper and pressed it gently to my nose. "Here, hold this to your face to stop it bleeding," he said gently. I moved my hand up and it brushed against his as he moved away. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes kind, but then he grabbed me again and pulled me into the main area. "You're not chaining me up again, are you?" I asked. He looked at me, almost sympathetically. "Nah. Not when you're nose is like that," he nodded towards me. "But if you try and escape," he grabbed me roughly and pulled his gun out and held it to the side of my head. "Then I will kill you. You got that?" I nodded, still holding the tissues to my nose. He
relaxed his hold and put his gun away. He kept holding onto my arm. I looked down at his hand for a moment. "Can I see your sketch now?"
He chuckled. "You won't shut up until I show you it, will you?" He asked. I nodded. He let go of me, almost reluctantly, and reached into his bag, pulling out a sketchpad. He flipped quickly past a lot of interesting looking sketches, until he reached the page he was going to show me. He took a deep breath, and turned it around for me to see. My mouth fell open and I felt more blood trickle down my face when I moved away the tissues.
He was amazing at art. And he had drawn me. I gasped. Gerard moved my hand back up to my nose and pressed gently to stop the bleeding. "What do you think then?" he asked worriedly. I shook my head. "It's absolutely amazing, I mean… wow. You made me look hot," He laughed properly, not a cruel, short laugh that he would usually sound like. This laugh was happy, almost. He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it and stayed quiet. I looked at the drawing. He had just drawn my face, neck and shoulders, and you could just see the edge of my tattoos on either side of my neck. His talent for art was unbelievable.
You know, you wouldn't expect somebody who keeps a gun and kidnaps people to be so good at art, or even have time to draw!
He put the sketch pad down on the bed and looked out of the window absent-mindedly.
"What do you want me to get for dinner?" he asked. I shook my head "Don't care,"
"Hm. I'll call for a pizza," he said quietly.
"Why are you being so nice?" I asked. He looked around at me curiously at me. "What?"
"You're being so nice. I mean, you've kidnapped me, Gerard. You should be starving me and beating me up and shit," I said, touching my nose gently to see if it was still bleeding, which, to
my relief, it wasn't. I put the tissues in the bin beside me and looked at Gerard curiously.
"I'm…" he frowned "If you fucking want me to beat you up then I can just do that, you know?" he came over and shoved me backwards, giving me a small static shock that made me tingle all over. "You shouldn't even be talking to me like that you little bastard, I'm in fucking charge, Frank." He hit me sharply across the face, his nails scraping my cheek.
Then he shoved me back onto the bed. I kicked out at him, but he leaned over me, his crotch rubbing against my leg as he reached for my wrists and pulled them forwards, grabbing the handcuffs from his pocket. He cuffed one hand, then yanked me forwards to cuff my other hand to the bed post. He glared at me.
I grinned. "Somebody's a little angry!" I pouted. He kneed me in the stomach and gripped my face in one of his hands.
"Frank. You're not my friend. You can't treat me like a friend" he said. He slapped me again and I screwed my eyes shut with the pain. "You fucking cry if you want, you little dick," I felt him move off the bed and he pulled his phone out.
He opened the door, glancing back at me for a moment, before leaving. I yelled after him, but he was already gone.