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Surrender The Night
Surrender The Night
The first time I saw him, his arms were folded carefully across his robed chest. His gurny was folded upright, allowing him to sit up and look around. He stared blankly ahead, not paying much attention to anything around him. I've been in this room now for three months. Why? Well, you'll figure that out later. I watched them wheel the stranger in, biting my lip. They pulled the curtain between our two 'rooms' closed, all that was to be heard was the quiet ruffling of sheets and soft murmurs. I heard the guy say thank you quietly, and not too short after, the nurse left. She smiled at me which I did not return. Call me nosy, but I wanted to know more about the new guy, just a name would do for now. I slid my legs carefully out of the crisp white sheets that always smelled too sanitized. The pads of my feet hit the cool floor and my head was already pounding. I groaned inwardly and pulled myself together, letting my butt slip off the mattress fully. Bracing myself on the bedside table, I stood completely erect. The air felt too cold around me, hugging my fragile bones; the soft, subtle breeze through the window almost blew me over. Without too much effort, I slipped the fluffy white hospital slippers onto my small feet and advanced to the curtain.
Honestly, I had no idea what I was going to do once the curtain was actually open. I didn't talk to anyone here, and I was surprising myself to be so eager to meet some pale faced stranger. Whatever the reason for my curiosity, I brushed it aside without much though, placing my frail fingers on the curtain. Slowly, I opened them, peeking at first, then without much hesitation, ripping it open completely and staring into the eyes of a man not much taller than me. What I did not expect, was to find him standing just behind the curtain, seeming to have the same objective as me. We stared at each other for some time, not knowing what to do or say. Both of us had wanted to meet the other, both quietly drawing the curtain at the same time.
I gave a timid smile and felt the dry skin crack as I did so, he looked at me like he'd never been smiled at before and frowned. Selfishly, I wanted him to say the first word, but being stubborn, I just couldn't wait that long.
"Hey." I croaked out. I don't talk much, and when I do I'm usually giving short, snappy answers. When I do hear my own voice I hate it. I want to rip it out of my lungs. It's always so dry sounding. Like I've been chewing on glass. Raw.
The man tipped his head to the side and nodded to me. I figured that's all he would say, or rather not say.
"I'm Frank." I rasped out again. There it was again. The sharp, raw sound of my horribly neglected voice. I didn't even know why I was talking, much less to this man. What made me want to talk to someone I didn't have to? Someone I didn't even know? I realized that he wouldn't say anything back to me, and I had obviously just made a fool of myself. Really Frank? Talking to someone you don't even know? Pathetic.
I crushed my eyes closed and turned away from the pale face, feeling every grind of my bones as I went. I almost made the few steps back to my bed before I heard the voice. At first I didn't think it was a voice, much less his.
It was the sound of wind hitting cool mountain water. The sound of a humming-bird's wings in the damp afternoon air. It was small, but clear. The voice was quiet, too. Like it didn't want to be heard. It felt like a secret.
"Gerard." The voice came a little stronger this time and I turned back to face the man. He looked up at me with his honey crystal eyes and attempted to smile.
I found myself gaping at him. I don't know what struck me so odd about him, but I couldn't help but be amazing that voice belonged to that body. His eyes were smooth, honey glaze colored, with pricks of holly leaves closer to the pupil. Toward the edge they got darker, an almost amber brown color. They seemed to change every angle you looked at them from.
His skin was pale, papery. There was a light dash of freckles over the sharp angles of his cheek bones.
Then, I took notice of his nose. The sharp tip wasn't unflattering like it was on most men and women. It complimented his cheekbones, I thought.
Thick bushes of black hair served as eyebrows, complimenting his long, delicate eyelashes nicely.
Small pink lips curved softly down at the left side, a thin crease between them.
I took his facial features in, studying every unnecessary detail that most people probably wouldn't care to notice.
I did that with everything, noticed details, noticed everything.
The man, no, Gerard, was looking at me now, probably wondering just why the fuck I was staring at him so intently. Way to go Iero. I stepped back and blushed a little, dipping my head and scratching at the base of my skull. Gerard caught my arm and smiled again. This time it was a full smile. I took notice of his teeth, which were small and square. They reminded me of my baby pictures. They weren't white, or brown or yellow or any gross color. Just stained. Cigarettes, I thought.
His hand was still on my arm, his touch was surprisingly warm. I could feel the rough pads of his finger tips against my own cold, fragile skin. They felt safe.
I glanced up at his face again and saw his eyes were covered in a thick black mop of tangled hair. It wasn't long, and it sure wasn't short. Not like mine. It was thick and obviously dyed. It curled a little near his ears and stuck out in random places. I wanted to smooth it down for him.
Suddenly, he was letting go of my hand. I gave him a confused stare and he smiled again. I almost asked what he was doing, but he closed the curtain quickly and I could hear the shuffle of him settling back into his sheets.
Feeling the ache in my bones, I remembered I was still standing there. Sighing quietly, I limped back to my bed, pitifully falling back onto the cold sheets. The slippers on my feet slid off onto the floor once more as I curled onto my side. Suddenly, I was exhausted. Just from standing up, barely speaking four words, it felt as though I had run a marathon. My eyes slid closed dully, sleep welcoming me in with a grip that felt surprisingly like the pads of Gerard's fingers.
I found that as I slept, the honey and holly color of Gerard's eyes swirled and danced in front of my eyelids.
Needless to say, I hadn't slept that well in a long time.
Honestly, I had no idea what I was going to do once the curtain was actually open. I didn't talk to anyone here, and I was surprising myself to be so eager to meet some pale faced stranger. Whatever the reason for my curiosity, I brushed it aside without much though, placing my frail fingers on the curtain. Slowly, I opened them, peeking at first, then without much hesitation, ripping it open completely and staring into the eyes of a man not much taller than me. What I did not expect, was to find him standing just behind the curtain, seeming to have the same objective as me. We stared at each other for some time, not knowing what to do or say. Both of us had wanted to meet the other, both quietly drawing the curtain at the same time.
I gave a timid smile and felt the dry skin crack as I did so, he looked at me like he'd never been smiled at before and frowned. Selfishly, I wanted him to say the first word, but being stubborn, I just couldn't wait that long.
"Hey." I croaked out. I don't talk much, and when I do I'm usually giving short, snappy answers. When I do hear my own voice I hate it. I want to rip it out of my lungs. It's always so dry sounding. Like I've been chewing on glass. Raw.
The man tipped his head to the side and nodded to me. I figured that's all he would say, or rather not say.
"I'm Frank." I rasped out again. There it was again. The sharp, raw sound of my horribly neglected voice. I didn't even know why I was talking, much less to this man. What made me want to talk to someone I didn't have to? Someone I didn't even know? I realized that he wouldn't say anything back to me, and I had obviously just made a fool of myself. Really Frank? Talking to someone you don't even know? Pathetic.
I crushed my eyes closed and turned away from the pale face, feeling every grind of my bones as I went. I almost made the few steps back to my bed before I heard the voice. At first I didn't think it was a voice, much less his.
It was the sound of wind hitting cool mountain water. The sound of a humming-bird's wings in the damp afternoon air. It was small, but clear. The voice was quiet, too. Like it didn't want to be heard. It felt like a secret.
"Gerard." The voice came a little stronger this time and I turned back to face the man. He looked up at me with his honey crystal eyes and attempted to smile.
I found myself gaping at him. I don't know what struck me so odd about him, but I couldn't help but be amazing that voice belonged to that body. His eyes were smooth, honey glaze colored, with pricks of holly leaves closer to the pupil. Toward the edge they got darker, an almost amber brown color. They seemed to change every angle you looked at them from.
His skin was pale, papery. There was a light dash of freckles over the sharp angles of his cheek bones.
Then, I took notice of his nose. The sharp tip wasn't unflattering like it was on most men and women. It complimented his cheekbones, I thought.
Thick bushes of black hair served as eyebrows, complimenting his long, delicate eyelashes nicely.
Small pink lips curved softly down at the left side, a thin crease between them.
I took his facial features in, studying every unnecessary detail that most people probably wouldn't care to notice.
I did that with everything, noticed details, noticed everything.
The man, no, Gerard, was looking at me now, probably wondering just why the fuck I was staring at him so intently. Way to go Iero. I stepped back and blushed a little, dipping my head and scratching at the base of my skull. Gerard caught my arm and smiled again. This time it was a full smile. I took notice of his teeth, which were small and square. They reminded me of my baby pictures. They weren't white, or brown or yellow or any gross color. Just stained. Cigarettes, I thought.
His hand was still on my arm, his touch was surprisingly warm. I could feel the rough pads of his finger tips against my own cold, fragile skin. They felt safe.
I glanced up at his face again and saw his eyes were covered in a thick black mop of tangled hair. It wasn't long, and it sure wasn't short. Not like mine. It was thick and obviously dyed. It curled a little near his ears and stuck out in random places. I wanted to smooth it down for him.
Suddenly, he was letting go of my hand. I gave him a confused stare and he smiled again. I almost asked what he was doing, but he closed the curtain quickly and I could hear the shuffle of him settling back into his sheets.
Feeling the ache in my bones, I remembered I was still standing there. Sighing quietly, I limped back to my bed, pitifully falling back onto the cold sheets. The slippers on my feet slid off onto the floor once more as I curled onto my side. Suddenly, I was exhausted. Just from standing up, barely speaking four words, it felt as though I had run a marathon. My eyes slid closed dully, sleep welcoming me in with a grip that felt surprisingly like the pads of Gerard's fingers.
I found that as I slept, the honey and holly color of Gerard's eyes swirled and danced in front of my eyelids.
Needless to say, I hadn't slept that well in a long time.
♠ ♠ ♠
xox