More Than Just Curious

Gerard’s P.O.V

Frank was confusing me to no end. His constant mood swings had left me breathless and confused, but also so very curious. He amazed me on how fast his actions and moods changed. It almost gave me a whip lash.

Right now we were sitting here, in my bedroom making out for the past five minutes. We were taking things slow; my lips caressed his as they danced happily together. It was a nice, slow kiss. Not rushed and hurried like the others.

I missed this side of him, the sane side. I kissed him further as he wove his fingers through my long black hair, pulling me closer. I wrapped my hands around his neck in return, wanting to feel every part of him. But no matter how close we were it was never enough.

I had missed this so much. His touch, his kiss, him. I had missed him every day, never really thinking about anything else but him. But I was okay with that, okay with him running my mind.

He pulled his lips away from mine momentarily to catch his breath. His hazel eyes captured mine; they were shining, alive and filled with so much emotion. I looked down to his slightly swollen lips. A smirk played on them, that same devious smirk that he had always worn. As I looked into his eyes, I saw that Frankie. That same Frankie that I had grown to like. My Frankie.

I smiled before I kissed lips again, just a simple caring peck. I wrapped my arms around his small frame as I hugged him tight, not wanting to let him go in fear that once I did, he wouldn’t be the same Frankie again.

“Frankie, I missed you so much when you were gone! Never do that again, never!” I pleaded to him. He pulled back and looked at me, eyes full of regret; it had to be the sanest emotion that I had seen in so long. I ached for him.

“I can’t promise you that Gee,” he told me as my heart nearly broke. I couldn’t help but cry to him, grabbing him tighter. My heart beat in my chest, my stomach did flips, and it felt as if my body was on fire.

I was broken. Frankie lent down and placed a small, subtle kiss to my lips, making me shiver with delight. He lay back on the bed with me, me lying down on his chest. He intertwined our fingers together as I cried myself to sleep. Hoping, praying that my pain and misery would wash away with my tears.

...

It has been two days since Frankie had moved into my house with my family and me. And it was as if every single one of those days he had been slipping further and further into insanity. Just yesterday morning he wouldn’t let me butter my toast because he said I could kill myself, with a butter knife. I told him that I wasn’t sharp enough, yet he insisted that I didn’t.

He spent most of his days now sitting in a corner and mumbling to himself while tracing incoherent shapes on the with his finger. I couldn’t find it in myself to call him crazy. He was just lost and needed to find his way back to sanity. I would help him get to the place he was once before.

But in order to do that I needed help. I decided that tonight I would talk to my mom about getting Frankie a therapist. Maybe he just needed to talk a few things out. I walked over to the corner that Frankie was sitting at right now.

He was rocking back and forth, holding himself at his knees and whispering things to himself that I couldn’t hear, yet I knew I didn’t want to.

“Frankie.” I whispered to him as I walked over closer to him. He looked up at me eyes wide and innocent as he jumped up and skipped over to me.

“Yes?” he whispered in the same tone of voice that I had. His eyes searched my face for something that he obviously wasn’t finding because he huffed and folded his arms across his chest and began to lightly tap his foot to the ground. I looked at him strangely for a moment, pondering on what to ask him.

“Uh are you hungry?” I asked him, trying to make a conversation to keep his focus before he went off in his own little world again. He looked at me momentarily before tapping his finger to his mouth.

“Uh yeah, what is there to eat?” he asked me, saying the most that he has said to me so far. I was grateful for that.

“Anything that you want. But we need to talk about something beforehand.” I told him, his face converting into one of confusion as I spoke.

“What about?” he asked, staring at me with one eyebrow raised. I sighed and walked into the kitchen, motioning for him to follow me.

I sat down at the kitchen table and folded my hands together, nervous as hell to bring up this topic. Frankie sat down across from me, eyeing me with great intensity. I didn’t know where to start. Should I just come right out and say he needed help so I was going to try and get him a therapist? Or something that sounded more… nicer? He looked at me, his expression growing impatient now as he waited for me to speak.

“Well uh Frankie, I have been thinking and I think its best if you,” I began but was cut off as Frankie made a high pitched screeching cry.

“You’re not kicking me out are you? I can’t go live back with her! She’s with them now Gee, I’ll be dead in a day tops!” he screamed, hyperventilating. It looked as if he were about to have a panic attack.

“No! No I am not kicking you out. I was just saying that I think it’s best if we found you a therapist to talk to, maybe that would help you out a little,” I offered him. He seemed to calm down a lot, until his eyes got as wide as Frisbees.

“You think I’m crazy… don’t you Gee?” he asked me in a hushed embarrassed tone. He drifted his eyes down to his lap, starring at his fingers intently.

“No, Frankie no I don’t think you’re crazy. But I just want to help you okay? Do you want to get better?” I asked him. I saw him hesitate with his answer before he answered in a tiny voice.

“Yes, I want to get better yes.” He told me, his eyes still never leaving his lap.

I smiled to myself and stood up from the kitchen table to go make Frankie some lunch. When my mom gets home I will talk to her about my plan. I will get him help. I will make him like new again.