Blush.

[A/N;; You might want to check the last bit of the last chappie so you don’t get confused.]

“I don’t know really. I mean, I’m not jealous of Frank; I don’t like you that way. I just don’t know,” he answered. I let out a breath that I’d been holding since he’d said he was jealous and smiled at him in relief.

“It’s okay. It’s probably just one of those weird things where you freak out because you feel like you’re losing someone?” I said, realising that what I’d just said sounded like something James would say. “But you’re not,” I added, hoping to reassure him.

“That’s probably it,” Quinn replied, nodding his head slowly as if he were making sense of what I’d just said. “But you have to admit, Frank does act a little weird sometimes.”

I could tell Quinn still wasn’t telling me something but I smiled nevertheless. “Yeah, he does. But he wouldn’t be Frank if he didn’t.”

Quinn smiled back and nodded in agreement. “You better make sure you’re not late for Mikey’s though. When are you planning on going there?”

“Hopefully early evening. Like, six ‘o’ clock or something,” I answered, fiddling with the hem of my shirt; I was starting to get really nervous the closer it drew to six ‘o’ clock.

“Okay, well I’ll take the gifts and go and wrap them for you while you get ready, alright?”

I nodded, “Yeah, thanks.”

Quinn was almost out the door but I quickly stopped him, “Wait a moment! Can you send Frank in?”

Quinn looked at me funnily but nodded and continued out the door. I didn’t have to wait long before Frank walked into my room with a curious expression.

“You wanted me?” he asked, a little dumbfounded. I nodded and walked over to the still turned canvas and managed to turn it back around without the cover coming off of it. I was glad I got the quick dry acrylic paint.

“I wanted to show you this,” I said softly and pulled the cover off with a flourish, revealing my painting. Frank stared at it with a quizzical expression.

“See these eyes?” I asked, pointing at them on the canvas. He nodded.

“I see them every night you know? Every night they’re there; when I dream. They invite me to do things I’m not sure I should do because I’m worried about what might happen if I do give in and do them. Can you guess whose eyes they are?”

Frank turned his stare to me when I finished and he nodded.

“Well they’re not Quinn’s because his eyes are brown. Your eyes are bluer than those and I doubt you dream of your own eyes every night inviting you to do these ‘things’. So I take it they must be mine,” he answered. He’d got it right. Dead fucking right.

I nodded. “They are. And I didn’t even know it until Quinn pointed it out.”

I walked forward until I was close enough to Frank that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. We were so close and he didn’t back down from my advance; he stood his ground. I stared into his eyes with a slight frown, I didn’t even know what the hell I was doing but that didn’t seem to stop me.

I leaned down a little so our lips were just mere millimetres away from each other. I watched Frank’s eyes stray down to my lips and I swear I could see the longing in his eyes. I wanted him to make the small gap between our lips disappear; I wanted him to make the next move. But he didn’t. He didn’t do anything at all.

I licked my lips slowly and carefully and I watched as his eyes flickered between my eyes and back to my lips; now I had his attention. But then something changed, I don’t know what but his expression went blank and he now looked at me with suspicion.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, his voice barely audible to my ears even though he was so close.

“Kissing you,” I replied quietly and then brought my lips to his, pulling him close. He didn’t hesitate in reacting; it was immediate. The kiss was rough, my lips moving in sync with his. He was still hesitant though. I ran my tongue along his bottom lip and smiled into the kiss when his mouth opened slightly. I stopped there.

Breaking away, I leaned my forehead against his.

“Are you on drugs?” he whispered suspiciously. I smiled at his accusation and shook my head slowly, my hair brushing between our foreheads.

“In that case, why are you kissing me?” he whispered again, but now with a small smile.

“Because I can and, weirdly, because I want too at the moment,” I replied, my fingers tracing along the back of his neck. His smile widened and he closed the space between our lips yet again and pecked me softly on the lips again and again.

We both heard footsteps along the hall and broke apart just as Quinn walked in with the now wrapped gifts. Luckily he had earphones in his ears. He smiled at the both of us and removed one of the earphones while Frank and I exchanged a nervous glance at each other.

“Here you go Gerard, they’re all wrapped.”

“Thanks Quinn. But did you really have to wrap them in pink fairy paper?” I asked, my head on the side a little, scrutinizing the pink paper. Quinn nodded with a grin.

“Okay then. Mikey’s gonna hate me even more,” I grumbled, forgetting about trying to hide what had happened moments before and the worry starting to take over.

“No he won’t. He probably misses you,” Frank said, finally speaking up. Quinn nodded, agreeing with Frank, and walked over to me and drew me into a tight hug.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered. I nodded, my chin hitting Quinn’s shoulder every time my head came down.

“Thanks, you guys.” I pulled away from Quinn and stood back to look at the both of them. I tried not to let my eyes linger on Frank but I couldn’t seem to tear them away; I did eventually though.

“It’s raining so take a coat or something.”

I rolled my eyes at Quinn and pointed at the jacket on my bed. He shook his head at me in a ‘whatever-y’ sort of way and bid his goodbyes before walking out of the room to go and have a shower. Frank stayed, although keeping his distance, and walked me to the door.

“See you later then, yeah?”

I nodded, “Yeah. See you later, Frank.”

I turned to leave but I only made it halfway out the door before I turned and walked back to peck his lips. When I pulled back I was smiling, but Frank was frowning at me.

“Go and see Mikey. We’ll talk later.”

And with those last words he waved and smiled at me weakly before shutting the door. I was taken aback by his actions but I kept on my way to Mikey’s anyway. But it didn’t stop me thinking about it; because ‘talking’ never seemed to be a good thing.

Suddenly, I felt as if I didn’t have control anymore; the positions had been reversed, meaning I now had more things to worry, fret and think about.

Maybe I shouldn’t have shown Frank my painting. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him at all.

I should’ve kept my control.