Oh Baby Let Me In

January 9th, 2000
Friday; afternoon

"Frank, I need you to pay attention to the notes."

The loud thwack of Ms. Murphy’s ruler on the black board had my eyes snapping up; cringing when I saw most of the board covered with notes in white chalk. I nodded, embarrassed as everyone turned to look at me in the back of the room, and picked up my pen to begin writing down the jumble of letters and numbers.

Ms. Murphy started up with her monotone lecture once again, and my pen slowly came to a halt and dropped back down on my open notebook. My fist fit under my chin as I stared at the back of the chair in front of me; focus on anything going on around me totally lost.

After last weekend, I hadn’t really been able to concentrate much on anything at all. Anything that didn’t have to do with Gerard, that is.

I lifted my other hand to my face, end of my newest sweatshirt balled up in my palm. The cuffs of both arms of the sweatshirt were frayed and worn, and there was a small rip in the stitching of the left shoulder. It was a pull over, and about two sizes too big for me, but I couldn’t care less. It smelt like Gerard, and that’s all that mattered.

I stared down at the bright blue fabric in between my fingers and smiled. Last Monday when Gerard brought Mikey and I to school, he had realized and remembered before we left that the hoodie I had borrowed from him had been ruined the day before, and found the one I was currently wearing hanging in his closet. He had apologized about its condition, and offered the tight fitting one he had been wearing at the time, but I refused.

This one was perfect; roomy and warm, and I think it was when Gerard watched me wrap myself up in the material that he realized that he wasn’t getting his hoodie back any time soon. He just smiled and said, “Keep it as long as you like, Frankie.”

I was jerked out of my thoughts for the second time this class period, but not by the teacher. The legs of my desk scratched against the linoleum floor as it was kicked from behind, and when I finally lifted my head from staring at my hands, everyone in the class was again turned back around to stare at me.

“Pass it back, dude.”

I spun around to the voice, to notice that he was pointing in front of me with a flustered look on his face. I turned to see the girl in front of me, eyes rolling when I spot the packets of paper she has held out for me to take. I frown and snatch them from her when she shakes them in my face, taking one before passing it to Mr. Impatient behind me.

I chance a look up at Ms. Murphy and see her eyeing me suspiciously from behind her desk; small half moon glasses perched at the end of her nose, pen tap tap tapping against her grade book. I sink lower in my desk and out of her eye line before I glanced down at the paper I had been given as the room suddenly filled with the sound of scratching pencils on paper.

My eyes widened as I read ‘Pop Quiz’ written at the top of the paper. I flipped through the two-page packet filled with math problems. I squinted down at the clutter of numbers and letters and internally groaned.

And I actually groaned out loud when I noticed that everyone was using the notes they took from the chalkboard; the ones I ignored and the ones that weren’t written on the board anymore.

“Frank! I need you to stop interrupting my class! Please collect your things and make your way to my desk.”

The whole class snickered as my face burnt bright red, clashing dramatically with my bright blue sweatshirt. I flipped my notebook, note less I might add, shoving my unmarked quiz between the pages, and slinging my backpack hooked to the back of my chair over my shoulder. I kept my head down as I shuffled to the front of the room. Ms. Murphy was scribbling on an office referral sheet; the paper bright pink just to let everyone know as you walked through the halls that you’d done something wrong. Some grinned and waved the paper around to others like it was no big deal; like they were proud they had gotten sent to the office.

I on the other hand tucked it alongside the blank quiz in my notebook and silently exited the class.

++

It was always freezing cold in Principal Anderson’s office, no matter what time of year it was. The dark shades on her floor to ceiling windows behind her desk were always pulled shut, and it seemed like she had a bright lamp glowing in every corner of the room, while her computer illuminated the area around her desk.

The chairs were black plastic and uncomfortable. Every time I shifted, the chair would squeak and creak, and Principal Anderson would look up from typing on her keyboard to peer over the desk at me.

Principal Anderson had to be at least sixty years old; she had been working at the school for ages. Her face was wrinkled and old, and she would have to occasionally use the cane she had sitting next to her desk to walk through the halls. She spent half of her time at her computer hunched over, nose practically pressed up against the glowing screen.

“Frank,” her voice was soft and quiet, and I could barely hear her over the loud buzz of her computer. “This is the second time in the last month that you’ve been sent to my office. Is there something going on that’s causing you to lose focus in class?”

Upon entering Belleview High four years ago, my mom had made sure the Principal knew all about my problems with communicating. She was able to assign my classes with teachers that were understanding about my condition, and were able to work around it. She also had meetings every once in a while with my mom and I about how school was going for me, so they were connected on some level.

So Principal Anderson always had a bright yellow pad of paper sitting at the end of her desk next to her mug of various pens. I’m pretty sure she kept all the papers I’ve ever doodled on in a folder buried in her desk.

I kept my head down, staring at my intertwined fingers lying in my lap. I didn’t want to tell her about Gerard. She didn’t need to know about my enormous gay crush on my best friend’s brother. She didn’t need to know my business.

Usually I have someone else in the room with me; my mom or Mikey usually tag along. Usually my meetings in this office were planned and scheduled, not spur of the moment like this one. I use either my mom or Mikey as a rock; they’re there when I begin to feel uncomfortable alone with this woman, and they’re able to keep me in line without even knowing that they are doing so. By just being there I’m able to communicate to Principal Anderson whatever she wants to know.

But now, not only am I alone with her in this room, but she also wants me to talk about what’s been bothering me. What distracted me from class enough to get me sent out. I wasn’t even able to talk to Mikey about Gerard; both in the sense that I wasn’t about to bring up my crush on his brother, but also because I had lost my voice because of the cold I received the day after our snow adventures.

I haven’t been able to talk to him about anything in almost a week.

“Frank, can you answer my question?” Principal Anderson leaned over her desk, glasses now hanging from the cord connected to the earpieces, and crashing against the desk as she moved forward to nudge the pad of paper towards me.

I sniff, my nose starting to act up and become clogged, and shrug my shoulders.

I hear her sigh before hearing the creak of her chair, indicating that she’s leaned back; scrutinizing me behind those half moon glasses she’s probably slipped back on her face. And when I take a quick glance up, that’s exactly what she’s doing.

“If I get Michael out of class to come down to sit in, will you then tell me what’s causing you trouble in your classes?”

I don’t respond and she sighs, picking up the phone as I scuff my feet against the carpet, occasionally knocking them against the corner of her desk. I know Mikey isn’t in class right now; he let me know this morning that he had an eye appointment right after third hour English we shared. I had Math fifth hour, so he was long gone.

Principal Anderson sighed into the phone, thanking the teacher on the other end before hanging up. “Alright, it seems Michael had former arrangements this afternoon, and isn’t in class at this time.”

I shrug again, because there really isn’t anything else I could do at that point. I just wanted her to let me leave and go home.

“Well, I can try and contact your mother for a conference. She would be at work at this time, correct Frank?”

I shrug and shift in my chair. I didn’t want a conference, and I didn’t want my mom coming down to the school.

Principal Anderson picked up her phone and punched in the numbers she read off of the computer screen. I sunk lower in the chair, crossing my legs at my ankles, and pulling the cuffs of my new sweatshirt into my palms once again. My lip ring clicked against my teeth in synch with the tick of the clock hanging from the wall, and it was then that I began to freak out.

I didn’t want my mom to know about any of this, because then she would ask the same questions the principal was asking. She wouldn’t let me out of her sight until I told her either.

But after a few rings and no answer, Principal Anderson sighed and hung up the phone. I internally sighed.

She lifted the phone from its base once more, leaning in close to the computer screen to read off another number out loud. “Is that still your home number, Frank?”

I nodded as she punched it into the phone. “I’ll try your home since there wasn’t an answer at her work.”

It clicks in my head then that it’s Friday, and that every Friday the bakery she works at is closed. That also means that since its Friday, she’s out at her mom’s house for lunch, which starts in the early afternoon, and doesn’t end forever since they both love to talk.

I actually smile when Principal Anderson sighs down at her phone once again. She doesn’t hang up right away, and waits for a few extra seconds before leaving a message; stating her name and where she’s from, like my mom wouldn’t know where the Principal worked at or something.

Instead of hanging up the phone completely, she just used her finger to do so before glancing at the computer once again to punch in another number.

“It says that your emergency contact information is Donna and Don Way, is that correct?”

My eyes widen, and I nod. Both of Mikey’s parents aren’t home, which means that the only person that should be home will be Gerard. Oh please, let him be home.

“Hello? Is this Don Way? –Gerard Way? Hello, Gerard.”

I smiled into my fist that still happened to be wrapped up in my new hoodie.

“This is Principal Anderson down at Belleview High School. I’m here with Frank Iero. This number was written down as his emergency contact.”

I cringed; the way she was stating things made it sound like something way worse had happened to me then what actually did.

“Oh, no Mr. Way, nothing bad happened, I assure you,” she leaned forward in her chair to watch me from behind those half moon glasses. “I have Frank in my office, and he’s not being as flexible about the situation he’s put himself in as I would like.”

I watched her nod a few times, and I continued clicking my lip ring along with the clock.

“We usually have someone down here to help us work with him. He only communicates with faculty if he has Michael down here with us, and unfortunately he’s been excused from class this afternoon.” She stops talking, and I can hear a faint voice on the other end of the line, and I frown at her.

I know it’s only Gerard on the other end of the line, but anything that happens in her office is said to only stay with the people in the office. And now that she’s telling someone else about what goes down with these meetings that I absolutely hate attending makes me mad. And also the fact that she’s talking about me like I’m not even sitting three feet from her upsets me, too.

“Yes, I would normally have the school psychologist come in and talk with him, but he doesn’t seem to be responding to anything at this point. If you could come to the school and assist him home, that would be wonderful. Class should be ending in an hour, but I’m willing to let him go early with the intention that he is to tell his mother all about this afternoon, understood?”

I didn’t know if she wanted me to agree and shake my head, or have Gerard agree, but I wasn’t about to respond to anything she was saying. She was completely breaking the rules of privacy right now, even if it was just to Gerard. Maybe she’s told others. I would never know at this point.

My eyes began to sting as I dug my fists into my eyes until I see colors.

“We’ll wait out in the lobby, alright Frank?”

I shot up from my seat, vision spotty, and I hauled my bag over my shoulder and stormed out of the room.

The lobby is directly outside of Principal Anderson’s office, and those black plastic chairs found their way out there, too. I sniff and clear my throat as I take a seat, avoiding the eyes of the secretary and passing students. I keep my head low, and try to calm myself down because my eyes are still burning and I’m really starting to not be able to breathe out of my nose anymore.

It feels like hours of sitting and staring at the light brown carpet before someone squats down in front of me, face light and a smile falling across her lips when I look up at her. “You’re Frank, right?”

I squint down at her as she balances on her toes, black binder resting on top of her thighs. Her arms are crossed over her chest, blocking her nametag from view. I nod slowly.

“I’m Susie, nice to meet you,” she smiles at me, but I can’t muster up anything to smile back. “Principal Anderson might have mentioned me.”

My eyebrows come together in confusion, and I glance quickly behind her at the front doors, wishing Gerard would bust through them and take me home.

“Well, incase she hasn’t,” she keeps up the happy charade, and I’m not impressed. I’m acting like an ass, and all she does is smile. Smile and talk like that’s what she gets paid to do. And it was then that I realized who she was. “I’m the school psychologist.”

I shake my head and bury myself into my new sweatshirt. I was not going to talk to another psychologist about my problems. I had to do that in the past, and it never worked.

“Frank, all I want to do is help you, alright?”

My face was hot and my eyes were wet, and I hated myself. I was crying again, and I hated it.

“Frank, anything and everything we discuss will be confidential and just between us, yeah?”

I let out a sharp, airy breath that was supposed to sound like a sarcastic laugh, but came out more as a sob. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Maybe Susie was telling the truth. Maybe she was one of the only people that kept their word when it came to privacy, but I didn’t want to take the chance.

“Frankie?”

I’m glad Susie had moved out from in front of me when I heard Gerard’s voice, or else I would have knocked her clean over.

Gerard’s hair was windswept and messy, and it looked like he might have just woken up, which didn’t surprise me at all. He was wearing the jacket with the broken buttons, so I was clearly able to see the light grey t-shirt that he wore underneath.

He hurriedly made his way through the entrance way and into the lobby, mouth turned down into a frown. “What happened?”

I sniff once more as he steps up to me, hands moving to rest on either side of my face and thumbs gently sweeping under my eyes. I shrug half-heartedly.

“Mr. Way? Hello, I’m Principal Anderson.”

Gerard lifts his head to nod to the Principal, arm looping around my middle and pulling me against him. I pushed my face into the front of his jacket as they spoke.

Principal Anderson has been the Principal of Belleview High for a gazillion years, but she couldn’t remember who attended the school just years ago, so she just nodded and ushered Gerard to the front desk.

“If you could sign out Mr. Iero right here, you two will be alright to go.”

Gerard kept me tucked under his arm as he writes down the required information, his fingers moving in slow circles on my side in an attempt to comfort me.

I buried myself deeper into his jacket.

++

"Princess, no," Gerard mumbled apologetically, closing my bedroom door to the whining retriever pouting on the other side.

I could barely breathe through my nose at this point, half because of the cold I had gotten from our snow adventures a few days beforehand, and half because I was having a hard time stopping myself from crying. I hated crying, and I seemed to be doing a lot of it lately. Especially in front of Gerard. I sniffled and pulled the sleeve of my newest sweatshirt into my palm to wipe at my nose, and then my eyes.

Gerard crossed my room, tugging his jacket off as he went. He folded it haphazardly, tossing it onto the chair at my desk before turning to me. "I need a notebook. And a pen."

I gestured to the desk behind him, and motioned for him to slide open the drawer. It was when he reached for the handle that I noticed his arm; bold black letters faded just a bit, but still legible written on the inside of his arm. My handwriting. I felt my lips tug up in a smile despite my mood.

Gerard's movements were rushed and hurried as he slammed the drawer shut, supplies in hand. He moved to join me at the end of my bed, flipping open the notebook to a random page, and set it and the pen on my lap.

"I," he cleared his throat, fist covering his mouth. He took a deep breath, eyes flicking up to scan over my face and then to rest on my eyes. "Tell me what's up. What's going on in your head right now? I- I'm sick of not knowing exactly what you're thinking, and it's driving me crazy," he said, as a smile fell across his face.

I returned his small smile, chin quivering, and I shrugged.

He prodded at the notebook in my lap. "Please, Frank? I know what they told me at your school, but I need you to tell me what happened. They said that you're usually okay with communicating with supervisors at school, but you just wouldn't today."

I shrug again, fingers finding the pen to begin tapping it against the paper, small black dots marking the page with every drop of the pen.

"Frank," Gerard murmured, placing his hand on top of mine to still the tapping. "You can tell me what's wrong. I'm here to listen."

I really didn't want to get frustrated with Gerard, but that last line he spoke was something that I've heard one too many times from doctors, teachers, and those stupid supervisors in the office at school that always want to hear my issues. Problem is, they can't actually hear me, and the fact that they have to use that word just upsets me, because they know that I can't talk.

I sigh loudly, pulling my hand out from under his to write, not caring if my words didn't make it between the little blue lines on the paper.

listen to what? the scratch of this pen on this paper? cause thats all i can give you

I dropped the notebook and pen in Gerard's lap before getting up and moving to pace back and forth at the end of the bed. My eyes were beginning to sting again, and I groaned out loud, because I was absolutely sick of it.

Princess let out a yelp from the other side of the door, nails scratching at the wood. I stomped my foot, surprisingly loud for only wearing socks, and I heard her take off down the hall; nails clicking against the hardwood floor.

"Frank, you know what I meant," Gerard spoke, voice quiet, but I avoided his eyes by scrubbing at my own with my fingers, continuing to pace in front of him.

I knew he didn’t mean for me to take it the wrong way; that he was just trying to help me. If I was in his situation; somehow getting sucked into being the guy that his little brother’s best friend depends on for anything and everything, I wouldn’t be able to keep anything straight either.

It was when he stuck out a hand to grab hold on my arm and pull me towards him, that I finally looked at him. I could feel my face was hot and most likely embarrassingly tear stained, but I couldn’t help it at this point. I wanted Gerard to understand what was really going on in my head, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him like I wanted to at this point in time. I wanted to scream at him. Scream that not being able to actually speak to him is driving me absolutely crazy. That he is driving me absolutely crazy, because I’d never felt this way about anyone in my entire life, and I wasn’t able to talk to him about how I felt.

I sniffed, and looked back down at Gerard still sitting on the end of my bed; both of my hands still tucked between his. He was looking back up at me; eyes wide and mouth slack, like he had no idea what to say.

“Frank,” he began, before I began shaking my head and pulling my hands from his to pick up the notebook sitting next to his thigh.

I had to use the cuff of my new sweatshirt to wipe at my eyes, because damn it, I couldn’t make out where I was scribbling on the paper at this point.

i like it when you call me frankie

“Okay. Yeah, alright,” Gerard cleared his throat as he looked down at the paper and nodded. “Frankie.” He reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding the notebook to run his thumb across my cheek. “Please stop crying, Frankie.”

I blinked my eyes quickly, clearing away the tears that built up there and took a deep breath; trying my best to stop them from falling down my face. His hand fell from my face as I went to sit down next to him; thighs pressed together. I reached across his lap, pen still in hand to press it against the paper.

i cant talk

I paused to watch Gerard’s eyebrows come together, confusion written across his face as he turned his head to look at me. I was quick to continue scribbling; I didn’t want to make eye contact until I was finished saying everything I wanted him to know, because I know that I would chicken out if that happened.

to anyone about this. not even mikey

“Mikey told me that you lost your voice. Is-is that what this is about?” Gerard tried, hand moving to block me from continuing to write. “He said you get colds really easy, and that must be what made your voice go. Your voice, Frankie. I know,” he paused when I started shaking my head, but continued talking anyways. “I know how much you love talking to Mikey, because I know he’s one of the only people that you can talk to. It’s my fault that you lost it. It was my idea to go out in the snow. Frankie, I’m so sorry.”

I reached back over him, writing on the bottom of the page, like a side note, and silencing anything he was about to continue saying.

id love to talk to you too

I heard him let out a breathy laugh, and when I took a chance to glance up at him, he was looking down at the sheet, grin on his face.

“Me too, Frankie. Me too.”

I smile too, sniffing once more to try and breathe through my nose that still felt clogged, before blocking his view once again to write back up at the top of the page.

I pause, though, when I run over what I was going to write in my head, trying to rephrase it in a way that won’t make me turn bright red and possibly run as far away as possible from the boy next to me.

“Frankie?”

I took a breath and cleared my throat like I was about to speak the words I was writing on paper. I wrote quickly and sloppily, before jumping up from the bed to walk to the furthest place in the room from Gerard.

I drop the pen on my desk on my way to the door, contemplating just wrenching it open and tearing down the stairs, but thought against it when I heard Gerard let out a noise; one half way between and cry and sigh.

I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to the door, letting it bump against it a few times before sighing and letting it rest against the wood.

The faint squeak of my bed frame told me that Gerard had pushed himself up from the bed, and by the creak in the floor board just to the right of my desk told me that he was standing right behind me. I held my breath as I felt him breathing against the back of my neck, and almost jumped out of my skin when I felt his hands come to rest against my hips.

He rested his forehead against the back of my head, and I shivered when he let out a laugh, his breath tickling my neck. “Are you… Really? Seriously, Frankie?”

I open my eyes to stare straight at the dark wood and concentrate on breathing normally. My hands find their way to rest on top of his, fingers digging into my own hips as I set them between his; palms resting on tops of his hands. I nod.

Gerard inhales sharply through his nose before stepping forward to press his front flush against my back, moving both pairs of hands to wrap around my front, and pressing his face into the side of my neck. “Thank God.”

I turn my head, and felt Gerard’s hair brushing against my cheek. I let go of his hands, and he loosens his grip around me, but doesn’t let go as I turn completely around in his arms so that I am facing him. I can’t help but grin down at his shirt; still too nervous to meet his eyes as he tightens his arms around me once again.

“Hey,” Gerard chuckles, dipping his head to find my eyes still avoiding his, but when I saw probably one of the largest smiles I’ve seen him make, I had to attempt to be brave and meet his eyes. If it was possible, his grin grew that much larger.

He pushed his forehead against mine, tipping my head up further so that our noses were touching too. “I’ve sort of been waiting for you to say that for a while now. And by ‘say’,” he rushed the last line when I rolled my sore eyes, dropping my vision to the floor before his hand slipped from around my back to gently grip my face. He lifted my chin to move my eyes back to his. “You know what I mean.”

I smile; my face almost starting to hurt from doing it so much, and I could feel my face start to burn at his words. The sloppy, barely legible words I had scribbled were sitting right across the room, and I don’t think I was ever more happy that I didn’t have to say those words out loud. I could barely write those words; I don’t know if I would have been able to speak them even if I was able to.

i kind of like you. kind of a lot actually

Gerard moved his hand from my chin to my cheek, running his fingers gently across my skin. He took a step closer, arm that was still around me moving to my hip once again, grazing against the bruise on my side that hurt less and less with everyday that passed; my back now pressed up against the door. His fingers trailed from my cheek to sweep across my lips, eyes following his fingers. He brushes against my lip ring, and his eyes flick down before an embarrassed smile falls across his lips. “I’ve never kissed anyone with a lip ring before.”

The smile drops from my face; not because I wasn’t happy. Oh Christ, not because of that.

I just felt like I was about to faint, that was all.

My eyes feel like they were about to fall from my head, and Gerard chuckles lightly before becoming quiet.

His grip loosens significantly; hands barely touching my sides, and he takes a few steps back. “That’s-that’s what you meant by like me, right? Or; Oh shit, Frankie. Did I just fuck everything up? I didn’t mean to, I just figured and really, really hoped-”

Gerard’s rambling stopped when I reached for both of his hands, tugging them to wrap back around me, because I really liked it when he did that. My own, now nervously shaking hands went to rest on the front of Gerard’s shirt, fingers gripping the fabric to pull him against me. I took a deep breath, chest rising to Gerard’s, before I looked up at him with a smile. Everything had gone as well as it could have so far, and all I had to do now was not fuck this part up.

Problem was, I had no idea how to do it in the first place. So fucking things up was still a great possibility at this point.

I loosened my fingers from his shirt, running my palms over the wrinkles they left behind on the fabric. I was secretly hoping that he would realize that I had no idea what I was doing, and when he moved his hands from my hips to grab my own and set them on his hips, I inwardly sighed as he took over.

“Just, yeah,” he smiled as I pulled the end of his shirt into my grip, tugging lightly and shyly smiling back at him. “Don’t worry, okay?”

I nod, and took my bottom lip into my mouth. One of his hands reached up and brushed away the hair that fell into my eyes; his fingers trailing down my face to cup my cheek. His fingers brushed my ear as his other hand found its place against my neck.

Gerard dipped his head, forehead brushing mine before he breathed out a laugh against my lips, and it was then that I realized how close he was.

“Too long, Frankie. Too long.”

The second my teeth let go of my lower lip, Gerard pushed forward without warning to press his lips against my own.

My breathing hitched, eyes snapping shut, and I froze. His lips were warm against my icy pair, and this was the point that I figured I would freak out and not know what to do.

Gerard pulled back enough to speak, his lips still brushing against mine as he spoke. “Just relax and go with it, Frankie.”

I nod frantically, eyes flying open, because I really, really wanted him to kiss me again.

And again and again.

And that’s exactly what he did.

My hands pulled at his end of his shirt and he nudged forward just a bit, tilting his head to press his lips harder against my mouth. My eyes slipped shut as he started moving his lips; urging mine to start dancing along with his.

I figured I was doing it right when I heard him inhale sharply through his nose, hand tightening slightly on my neck, before he was sighing against my lips.

I had to grin when I figured out that I was having that effect on Gerard; my best friend’s older brother who I’ve been having very, very inappropriate dreams about lately. It may only be just a small kiss, but it felt much bigger.

Gerard pulled back slightly when I couldn’t keep the huge smile off of my face, and he laughed out loud when I started to giggle.

“Is that a good giggle, or bad?” Gerard’s voice was low and scratchy, and so sexy that it actually made me visually shiver.

I smiled; eyes dropping to my hands on his waist, as my fingers slipped under his shirt to trail over his sides. I looked back up, needing to bounce up on my toes to push my lips against his quickly before dropping back down.

Gerard grinned and pushed his forehead against mine, as his hands moved once again to wrap around my waist. “Well, just so you know, I kind of like you a lot, too.”

I beam up at him; stomach flip flopping and head spinning with so many different thoughts. No one has ever said anything like that to me before, and when it was coming from the guy I was pretty crazy about, I couldn’t even think about what I was going to do with myself.

What I did do, though, was move my hands from his waist to his forearms to pull back the one marked with bold black sharpie. I traced over three of the words I had written days before with my pointer finger, eyes trained on Gerard, who had his own staring at his arm.

i need you

He didn’t move his eyes back to my own until I tugged his arms back around me, and all both of us could do was smile.

Gerard’s mouth opened and closed a few times, no words falling past his lips. He chuckled and shook his head. “What you do to me, Frankie.”

My head actually bumped into the door when he crashed his lips to mine again, but his arms tightened around my middle; pulling me closer, and all I could do was sigh and kiss back.