Sequel: For Forgiveness ›
Status: I hope that whoever reads this finds some sort of meaning. Not everything is perfect, and that's okay.
Found Missing
Fifteen
"I never knew."
"Never knew what?"
"You know what. I never knew about your dad."
"There's a lot of things you don't know."
"Believe me, I know a lot more than you think."
Gerard lays his hand on my leg, his thumb moving in careful circles over my jeans. "Believe me."
I swallow, wishing that his tone would stop making me feel so anxious. "What do you mean?"
He sighs, taking the half empty mug from my hands and placing it on the living room table. He'd made me tea for once, not coffee. Chamomile, he said his mother drank it to help her relax. All I want to do now is sleep.
"Remember the time I ran into you after you'd used Martha's bath?" He asks, hands linking with mine. "You didn't have a towel, I called you a naked slut and you swore at me, like, completely unnecessarily."
My cheeks burn at the memory. "It wasn't unnecessary."
"Whatever." He rolls his eyes and runs his tongue over his teeth. I know what he's going to tell me, and no matter how much he knows I don't want to hear it, he says it anyway. "You thought I didn't see what you'd done to your thighs, Elfie."
I wince as his words die to whispers, the blood draining from my face that blushed to crimson only seconds ago. "Gerard, I-"
"Fucking butchered them."
I snatch my eyes from his sight, certain that if they aren't still bloodshot from our conversation in the conservatory then they will be again soon. "Elfie, stop avoiding me." He takes my chin and pulls me back to look at him.
"I think you're beautiful."
I don't know who is more shocked by what's just been poured from his mouth. I blink once, he blinks twice. Now it's his turn to blush. He still says it again, a little quieter than before, but still just as brash. "I think you're beautiful, no matter what. I always have done." He inhales, it's uneven and I'm almost sure he's close to tears, too. "I tend to avoid what scares me."
"So you hated me because I'm beautiful?" I tease, the smallest of smiles playing my lips.
"No, I didn't hate you. I didn't know you." He reminds me, smiling even smaller.
I nod, shrugging his dressing grown tighter around my shoulders. I watch the hazel of his eyes shine from a pallet of porcelain and I realize that he is closer to me than Martha ever had been. Unless she had been the greatest keeper of secrets, I'm closer to Gerard, too.
"I just feel so alone sometimes." I say quietly. "It overwhelms me and I feel so stupid and pathetic."
"You're not alone, and you're not stupid," He says. "but I can't save you, Elfie."
"I don't want you to." I say. "All I want is someone who knows how to fake a smile because it's what we have to do. I want someone who knows how fucked up everything is but still stays."
He looks at me so gently and I want to cry again. He says nothing but wraps his hand around the back of my head, fingers twining with the waves in my hair and lips brushing mine with patient anticipation. My chest has butterflies; the kind that aren't sweet but are violent and demand to be satisfied.
"Now." I breath against his cheek. It's the only word I'm able to muster, but he seems to comprehend. A subtle smirk toys the corner of his mouth and he asks "You're sure?" in a voice so inviting he should know better than to question me.
"Yes." My breath is drawn sharp, his teeth are on my neck.
"Let me make you feel good." I hear him say against my skin, I almost die right there and then.
I find him in a needy scuffle between my legs, tugging at the button on my jeans as my hands grip the material of his mothers sofa. Any trace of a doubt I've ever had about this moment melts to nothing along with the fear of Mikey bursting in on us through the front door. Nothing seems to matter as soon as he has my scars bare and his kiss only inches away from where I ache for it to be. I stare down at him with some erratic fascination, he stares back; eyes smudged with black from days before and an expression so intense I'm afraid I'll buckle if I can't have his touch.
After what I swear is too long he dips; diving for pearls and I buck my hips and I cry his name without a care for what the neighbors must think. I cry his name and then I know this is real; it's so real and there's no going back.
"Never knew what?"
"You know what. I never knew about your dad."
"There's a lot of things you don't know."
"Believe me, I know a lot more than you think."
Gerard lays his hand on my leg, his thumb moving in careful circles over my jeans. "Believe me."
I swallow, wishing that his tone would stop making me feel so anxious. "What do you mean?"
He sighs, taking the half empty mug from my hands and placing it on the living room table. He'd made me tea for once, not coffee. Chamomile, he said his mother drank it to help her relax. All I want to do now is sleep.
"Remember the time I ran into you after you'd used Martha's bath?" He asks, hands linking with mine. "You didn't have a towel, I called you a naked slut and you swore at me, like, completely unnecessarily."
My cheeks burn at the memory. "It wasn't unnecessary."
"Whatever." He rolls his eyes and runs his tongue over his teeth. I know what he's going to tell me, and no matter how much he knows I don't want to hear it, he says it anyway. "You thought I didn't see what you'd done to your thighs, Elfie."
I wince as his words die to whispers, the blood draining from my face that blushed to crimson only seconds ago. "Gerard, I-"
"Fucking butchered them."
I snatch my eyes from his sight, certain that if they aren't still bloodshot from our conversation in the conservatory then they will be again soon. "Elfie, stop avoiding me." He takes my chin and pulls me back to look at him.
"I think you're beautiful."
I don't know who is more shocked by what's just been poured from his mouth. I blink once, he blinks twice. Now it's his turn to blush. He still says it again, a little quieter than before, but still just as brash. "I think you're beautiful, no matter what. I always have done." He inhales, it's uneven and I'm almost sure he's close to tears, too. "I tend to avoid what scares me."
"So you hated me because I'm beautiful?" I tease, the smallest of smiles playing my lips.
"No, I didn't hate you. I didn't know you." He reminds me, smiling even smaller.
I nod, shrugging his dressing grown tighter around my shoulders. I watch the hazel of his eyes shine from a pallet of porcelain and I realize that he is closer to me than Martha ever had been. Unless she had been the greatest keeper of secrets, I'm closer to Gerard, too.
"I just feel so alone sometimes." I say quietly. "It overwhelms me and I feel so stupid and pathetic."
"You're not alone, and you're not stupid," He says. "but I can't save you, Elfie."
"I don't want you to." I say. "All I want is someone who knows how to fake a smile because it's what we have to do. I want someone who knows how fucked up everything is but still stays."
He looks at me so gently and I want to cry again. He says nothing but wraps his hand around the back of my head, fingers twining with the waves in my hair and lips brushing mine with patient anticipation. My chest has butterflies; the kind that aren't sweet but are violent and demand to be satisfied.
"Now." I breath against his cheek. It's the only word I'm able to muster, but he seems to comprehend. A subtle smirk toys the corner of his mouth and he asks "You're sure?" in a voice so inviting he should know better than to question me.
"Yes." My breath is drawn sharp, his teeth are on my neck.
"Let me make you feel good." I hear him say against my skin, I almost die right there and then.
I find him in a needy scuffle between my legs, tugging at the button on my jeans as my hands grip the material of his mothers sofa. Any trace of a doubt I've ever had about this moment melts to nothing along with the fear of Mikey bursting in on us through the front door. Nothing seems to matter as soon as he has my scars bare and his kiss only inches away from where I ache for it to be. I stare down at him with some erratic fascination, he stares back; eyes smudged with black from days before and an expression so intense I'm afraid I'll buckle if I can't have his touch.
After what I swear is too long he dips; diving for pearls and I buck my hips and I cry his name without a care for what the neighbors must think. I cry his name and then I know this is real; it's so real and there's no going back.
♠ ♠ ♠
This is such a short update, but I think it works as I didn't want to over-do it, I wanted it to be simple but complex with its story line. As usual thank you so much to everyone!