For the Last Night I Lie, Could I Lie With You?
A kiss in the shadows, a shove in the darkness
“Expecting someone else?” You retort matter of factly. He rubs the back of his neck, similarly to how his brother did before, you’d comment on how cute it was if you weren’t so pissed off.
“Um, kinda.” He says flatly.
“Oh, well don’t let me keep you.” You say crawling forwards and easing yourself up so that you’re standing inches away from his burning eyes.
“Hey! No don’t be stupid!” He says ushering you to sit back down.
“No, wouldn’t want to ruin your intimacy, I’ll just head off.” You say as hot tears prickle in your eyes.
“I miss you.” He blurts, surprising you to a halt. You turn to see him standing there, every little bit of you screams to touch him but you stand motionless, willing him to continue.
“I’m sorry we haven’t hung out in a while. I’ve just been, well…”
“…Busy?” You finish his sentence, spite dripping from your words. You want him to know how it feels to just be disregarded and thrown away without explanation. He had enough time to spend with blondie; his disinterest certainly had nothing to do with time.
“Well yes, I have been busy.” He says unconvincingly, blowing loose hair out of his shining eyes.
“Not too busy I see. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking. Enjoy the gig.” You say sharply, surprised how you can aim so much acid at this man, this man that you…love. You turn to leave taking one last look at his beautiful face, knowing that any more than a quick glance would melt you. He grabs your arm and the grip of his fingers against you skin makes you shiver, he notices. Shit.
“Listen, I…” He starts and then closes his mouth obediently; for once he seems at a loss for words.
“That’s what I thought.” You groan and try to shake off his grip, something you never thought you’d willingly do.
“No, wait!” He cries, his voice cracks, giving it an almost begging quality. He whips you around and pulls you into him with his strong hands. With his arms still wrapped around your waist his mouth collides with yours in the most perfect, strong and passionate kiss. He enters your mouth and moves his hands to your hair, threading his fingers through it and then pulls away staring into your shocked face.
He smiles showing his teeth, a genuine smile. “I do miss you.” He whispers, kissing you again lightly on the lips before walking clumsily down the stairs.
You stand there completely in disbelief, a hand raised to your lips. That was so much more unbelievable then your imagination would ever allow you to picture. His taste, his tongue, his soft lips, his body pressed against you, him holding you close. Perfection.
You sit back down and try to unscramble your mind, every bit of you tingling with the sudden touch of him. He kissed you, twice infact. Not the way you kiss your friends. And he had said he missed you.
What did this mean? He wouldn’t kiss you if he didn’t like you; he’s not like that, is he? You watch as his familiar figure emerges in the crowd, so elegant the way he strides, even when he’s pushing past people in a sweaty crowd, oh he’s beautiful. He waves to his brother on stage frantically demanding his attention, a huge smile spread across his lips. You can’t help but mimic him, oh he is infectious alright.
You crawl forward a little and let your legs hang freely off of the edge of the platform, kicking the air playfully, still studying your subject. Your subject. You watch as he makes it through the crowd into the less crowded seating area and sits down next to… no!
Mortified you watch as he sits down next to Alex, that smug little airhead. He places his arms around them and they kiss him back. Both smiling they watch the crowd bounce rhythmically up and down, transfixed by the music pumping through the air.
His arms are around her. The arms that were wrapped around you a few seconds ago, those arms that pulled you against him, begging you not to go. His lips against hers, those striking lips that were pressed against yours a few seconds ago, tasting every inch of your mouth.
Sickness rises inside of you and you grip your stomach tightly, banging your curled fists against the platform. You watch as your knuckles turn white with the force of your fingers cracked into them. Banging louder and louder hot tears streak your face, bleeding your mascara and leaving tiny trails of black misery etched across your cheeks.
Clutching your knees you bury your head against them, choking on sobs as you try to burn out the image of Gerard and Alex, laughing, smiling, together. You were a fool, you curse yourself for letting him do this to you and promise yourself that no one will ever break the barriers down again.
You wipe your eyes frantically, making them burn and making yourself feel better at the pain. Easing yourself down the stairs you head straight towards the bar, noting from the corner of your eye how Gerard stiffens at the sight of you. No need to worry, you think to yourself. I won’t bother you again Gerard, you’ve heard the last of me.
You grimace at the sting of the vodka as it burns the back of your throat. You’re not a big drinker. Oh well, you think to yourself, there’s a first for everything. Slowly the taste stops bringing tears to your eyes and your pallet numbs allowing you to swig back more and more spirits.
“So you thought you’d start the drinks without us then?” Mikey’s voice startles you from your swirling drunken thoughts.
You laugh and offer him the glass you’re holding, which is nearly all gone. He laughs too and declines.
“You okay?”
“Yeahh I’m fantastic!” You say a little too loudly causing most of the bar to turn to you. “Where are we going out?!”
“I don’t know, we were going to go to a bar or just hang out somewhere, you sure you’re up for that?” Mikey asks eyeing the line of shot glasses that surround you. You nod enthusiastically, so much so that you look slightly crazy. Mikey laughs again and says something to the guy behind the bar that you didn’t catch. He tells you that he’s going to get his stuff and will meet you back there in a minute.
Just as he leaves a tall guy with dark hair approaches you and puts his arms around you. You follow the arms to find a guy, slightly older than you grinning at you, and not at your face. If you squint he looks a bit like a blurred Gerard, only not as handsome, without the same beautiful smile or shining eyes. In fact he hardly resembles him at all, but it’s the closest you’ll ever get to him you admit defeatedly.
“Need a drink sweetheart?” His tones are husky and deep, you note as he sits himself a little too close next to you. You nod sheepishly and he summons the bartender in an arrogant click of his calloused fingers.
“Sorry sweetheart this jerk is refusing to serve you, the idiot says your friend didn’t want you having any more! What a moron! I bet I can find a place where you can get a drink, or more…” he says the last bit in almost a whisper and winks exaggeratedly at you, you grimace at the sight, arrogant, big-headed guys like this usually make your stomach turn, but not tonight I suppose, something else has already done that for you.
“I better wait for my friend.” You slur, trying to look somewhere else than his crooked smile.
“Now come on sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re saying. Let me help you.” He stands up and lifts you from the chair despite your struggling. With his strong arms around your shoulders he tries to push you forwards.
“I said I was waiting for my mate, alright?!” You struggle from his grip but it just tightens, causing you to yelp slightly. He turns you to face him and you can feel his sickly beer-filled breath on your face. “Listen sweetheart, I told you, you don’t know what you’re saying no to. You don’t wanna stay in here with all these idiots do you? Come with me.”
You pray that Mikey returns pretty sharpish and knee the guy as hard as your limp legs can manage. Loosening his grip on you slightly he buckles over and groans with pain. Suddenly his grip tightens even harder causing the skin around his cracked hands to turn white.
He pushes you forwards violently and you begin to shout out just as you get dragged through the door. He slides his arms around your neck.
“That wasn’t wise darling, I think you’re gonna pay for that. I think you’re gonna be paying for that all night!” He says between clenched teeth. His face sweaty and strained, in the moonlight he looks ugly and fierce, nothing like Gerard, Gerard would break your heart without a second thought, but he’d never do this, would he?
Pushing him away with your hands you realise that you’re helpless against his tall frame, you begin to scream but a sweaty palm smothers your mouth, silencing you.
Suddenly his frame flinches and blood drips from his crooked mouth. A fist smacks into his face, twice maybe three times until he lays writhing on the floor cursing. Stunned and shaking you follow the arm to its owner and gasp, it can’t be.
“Are you okay?” He asks placing a hand on your shoulder, you shudder at his touch.
“Um, kinda.” He says flatly.
“Oh, well don’t let me keep you.” You say crawling forwards and easing yourself up so that you’re standing inches away from his burning eyes.
“Hey! No don’t be stupid!” He says ushering you to sit back down.
“No, wouldn’t want to ruin your intimacy, I’ll just head off.” You say as hot tears prickle in your eyes.
“I miss you.” He blurts, surprising you to a halt. You turn to see him standing there, every little bit of you screams to touch him but you stand motionless, willing him to continue.
“I’m sorry we haven’t hung out in a while. I’ve just been, well…”
“…Busy?” You finish his sentence, spite dripping from your words. You want him to know how it feels to just be disregarded and thrown away without explanation. He had enough time to spend with blondie; his disinterest certainly had nothing to do with time.
“Well yes, I have been busy.” He says unconvincingly, blowing loose hair out of his shining eyes.
“Not too busy I see. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking. Enjoy the gig.” You say sharply, surprised how you can aim so much acid at this man, this man that you…love. You turn to leave taking one last look at his beautiful face, knowing that any more than a quick glance would melt you. He grabs your arm and the grip of his fingers against you skin makes you shiver, he notices. Shit.
“Listen, I…” He starts and then closes his mouth obediently; for once he seems at a loss for words.
“That’s what I thought.” You groan and try to shake off his grip, something you never thought you’d willingly do.
“No, wait!” He cries, his voice cracks, giving it an almost begging quality. He whips you around and pulls you into him with his strong hands. With his arms still wrapped around your waist his mouth collides with yours in the most perfect, strong and passionate kiss. He enters your mouth and moves his hands to your hair, threading his fingers through it and then pulls away staring into your shocked face.
He smiles showing his teeth, a genuine smile. “I do miss you.” He whispers, kissing you again lightly on the lips before walking clumsily down the stairs.
You stand there completely in disbelief, a hand raised to your lips. That was so much more unbelievable then your imagination would ever allow you to picture. His taste, his tongue, his soft lips, his body pressed against you, him holding you close. Perfection.
You sit back down and try to unscramble your mind, every bit of you tingling with the sudden touch of him. He kissed you, twice infact. Not the way you kiss your friends. And he had said he missed you.
What did this mean? He wouldn’t kiss you if he didn’t like you; he’s not like that, is he? You watch as his familiar figure emerges in the crowd, so elegant the way he strides, even when he’s pushing past people in a sweaty crowd, oh he’s beautiful. He waves to his brother on stage frantically demanding his attention, a huge smile spread across his lips. You can’t help but mimic him, oh he is infectious alright.
You crawl forward a little and let your legs hang freely off of the edge of the platform, kicking the air playfully, still studying your subject. Your subject. You watch as he makes it through the crowd into the less crowded seating area and sits down next to… no!
Mortified you watch as he sits down next to Alex, that smug little airhead. He places his arms around them and they kiss him back. Both smiling they watch the crowd bounce rhythmically up and down, transfixed by the music pumping through the air.
His arms are around her. The arms that were wrapped around you a few seconds ago, those arms that pulled you against him, begging you not to go. His lips against hers, those striking lips that were pressed against yours a few seconds ago, tasting every inch of your mouth.
Sickness rises inside of you and you grip your stomach tightly, banging your curled fists against the platform. You watch as your knuckles turn white with the force of your fingers cracked into them. Banging louder and louder hot tears streak your face, bleeding your mascara and leaving tiny trails of black misery etched across your cheeks.
Clutching your knees you bury your head against them, choking on sobs as you try to burn out the image of Gerard and Alex, laughing, smiling, together. You were a fool, you curse yourself for letting him do this to you and promise yourself that no one will ever break the barriers down again.
You wipe your eyes frantically, making them burn and making yourself feel better at the pain. Easing yourself down the stairs you head straight towards the bar, noting from the corner of your eye how Gerard stiffens at the sight of you. No need to worry, you think to yourself. I won’t bother you again Gerard, you’ve heard the last of me.
You grimace at the sting of the vodka as it burns the back of your throat. You’re not a big drinker. Oh well, you think to yourself, there’s a first for everything. Slowly the taste stops bringing tears to your eyes and your pallet numbs allowing you to swig back more and more spirits.
“So you thought you’d start the drinks without us then?” Mikey’s voice startles you from your swirling drunken thoughts.
You laugh and offer him the glass you’re holding, which is nearly all gone. He laughs too and declines.
“You okay?”
“Yeahh I’m fantastic!” You say a little too loudly causing most of the bar to turn to you. “Where are we going out?!”
“I don’t know, we were going to go to a bar or just hang out somewhere, you sure you’re up for that?” Mikey asks eyeing the line of shot glasses that surround you. You nod enthusiastically, so much so that you look slightly crazy. Mikey laughs again and says something to the guy behind the bar that you didn’t catch. He tells you that he’s going to get his stuff and will meet you back there in a minute.
Just as he leaves a tall guy with dark hair approaches you and puts his arms around you. You follow the arms to find a guy, slightly older than you grinning at you, and not at your face. If you squint he looks a bit like a blurred Gerard, only not as handsome, without the same beautiful smile or shining eyes. In fact he hardly resembles him at all, but it’s the closest you’ll ever get to him you admit defeatedly.
“Need a drink sweetheart?” His tones are husky and deep, you note as he sits himself a little too close next to you. You nod sheepishly and he summons the bartender in an arrogant click of his calloused fingers.
“Sorry sweetheart this jerk is refusing to serve you, the idiot says your friend didn’t want you having any more! What a moron! I bet I can find a place where you can get a drink, or more…” he says the last bit in almost a whisper and winks exaggeratedly at you, you grimace at the sight, arrogant, big-headed guys like this usually make your stomach turn, but not tonight I suppose, something else has already done that for you.
“I better wait for my friend.” You slur, trying to look somewhere else than his crooked smile.
“Now come on sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re saying. Let me help you.” He stands up and lifts you from the chair despite your struggling. With his strong arms around your shoulders he tries to push you forwards.
“I said I was waiting for my mate, alright?!” You struggle from his grip but it just tightens, causing you to yelp slightly. He turns you to face him and you can feel his sickly beer-filled breath on your face. “Listen sweetheart, I told you, you don’t know what you’re saying no to. You don’t wanna stay in here with all these idiots do you? Come with me.”
You pray that Mikey returns pretty sharpish and knee the guy as hard as your limp legs can manage. Loosening his grip on you slightly he buckles over and groans with pain. Suddenly his grip tightens even harder causing the skin around his cracked hands to turn white.
He pushes you forwards violently and you begin to shout out just as you get dragged through the door. He slides his arms around your neck.
“That wasn’t wise darling, I think you’re gonna pay for that. I think you’re gonna be paying for that all night!” He says between clenched teeth. His face sweaty and strained, in the moonlight he looks ugly and fierce, nothing like Gerard, Gerard would break your heart without a second thought, but he’d never do this, would he?
Pushing him away with your hands you realise that you’re helpless against his tall frame, you begin to scream but a sweaty palm smothers your mouth, silencing you.
Suddenly his frame flinches and blood drips from his crooked mouth. A fist smacks into his face, twice maybe three times until he lays writhing on the floor cursing. Stunned and shaking you follow the arm to its owner and gasp, it can’t be.
“Are you okay?” He asks placing a hand on your shoulder, you shudder at his touch.