My Angel.

Gerard’s POV

I shot up in bed, the dream had given me a great idea for a song.

I slowly rolled out of the warm bed, careful not to wake the sleeping form beside me. The clock read 5:39. we had only got in three hours ago – Frank had insisted on seeing all the sights of the city yesterday afternoon – which meant Time Square in the dark and a drive in movie on the edge of the city.

I walked over to my desk and opened a sketchbook, hastily scribbling:

Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I'd say to you we could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition too
I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets

I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after all the things we put each other through and

I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like there's nothing left to do
But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running

I looked over at Frank, his chest steadily rising and falling, hair spread out on the pillow.

I picked up a pencil and started to sketch us behind the words.

Half an hour later, I slipped back into bed, snuggled up against Frank and fell asleep almost instantly.

6:29.

Frank’s POV

“Mommy!” He ran at the frail figure in the threadbare white dress, heavy grey circles weighing down her once beautiful green eyes.

She expanded her arms, ready to hug him. He had nearly reached her, when she started to move effortlessly backwards, floating away from him in the cold night air.

“MOMMY!” He shouted even louder this time, but his five year old voice wasn’t strong enough to keep the tired woman, and all he could do was cry and wail as the pale, sad face moved out of sight.

I shot up in bed.

6:39.

I sighed and looked down at Gerard’s body, the way his hair covered his face, the way his bare chest almost glowed in the light from the moon seeping in through the un-curtained window. The way his body curled into mine, fitting it perfectly.

I climbed out of bed and padded across the room to Gee’s desk.

I picked a sketchbook off the desk and opened it, flicking through the worn down pages. I saw countless drawings, mostly of me, him, me and him, with lyrics lining the gaps.

I got to the last used page in the book and found one of the most beautiful drawings sketched underneath lines of words titled ‘Demolition Lovers’.

It was two figures, one had his arm crossed over his chest, covering his heart, with his head turned to face the other taller figure, who was looking away into the distance, one hand clasped over the smaller man’s chest, the other snaking round his waist.

I would have been sure it was me and Gerard, were it not for the fact that they were faceless – they had no features, and where their faces should have been was just blank white page.

I shivered, realizing how long I had been staring at the haunting picture, and slid back into bed next to Gee, draping his arm over my waist and leaning my head on his.

He murmured and moved closer to me.

7:03