Dancing Bruises.
Second Dimension Boy.
Over and over again, Frankie's clones skipped through his head, dancing, bumping into walls, making throbbing dents within the insides of Pete's mind; just a dimension short of the flesh-and-blood Frankie who clings to every sight that touches his mind.
Half of his attention was wasted on Frankie and it never phased him until he found himself missing a lyric and half of what his blue-eyed friend said.
"... someone's in another world; gonna explain?" the blond asks, eyebrow slightly cocked highlighting a sincere lopsided smile.
"Explain what?" Pete replies, facial expression wrapped in fragments from another world.
"What's gotten into you for once. You just... disappear nowadays. You dive into the filthy pits of nowhere then you come back like... like this."
Was Frankie a dream? A love novel gone bad? A doll gone rotten?
"Pete?
Frankiefrankiefrankie; fucking Frankie Iero who wanted to make him better so he would feel like fucking Santa Clause who kills curious little kittens.
It's a full-fledged mental seizure now; filled with thoughts of Frankie and his warm teasing hands touching and treasuring every inch of him. It was like both of their circulation were cut off from air and frankly?
They were just going crazy now.
You're the punches and I'm the knockout.
His face was an effigy of despair by now. Desperate for Frankie and his pretty mouth.
Pete's drowning in denial; he still didn't care for Frankie that much. And that was ironic; like a claustrophobe who's out to vanquish his fear and ends up in a gas chamber.
"You're on cloud number nine. Who's the bastard?"
You really don't wanna know; look what happened when I tried to. Got so hopelessly tangle in him.
"Frankie Iero." he mutters.
"From all people... it had to be Frankie Iero?" His blue eyes went inky with dark puzzlement.
"It wasn't like that at first. It got messy; messier than I ever thought would be."
"It's kinda... odd, Pete. I mean... you and him? Never saw it coming."
"Neither did I."
"Why?" Seriously?
"I don't even know." But I'm halfway there.
Half of his attention was wasted on Frankie and it never phased him until he found himself missing a lyric and half of what his blue-eyed friend said.
"... someone's in another world; gonna explain?" the blond asks, eyebrow slightly cocked highlighting a sincere lopsided smile.
"Explain what?" Pete replies, facial expression wrapped in fragments from another world.
"What's gotten into you for once. You just... disappear nowadays. You dive into the filthy pits of nowhere then you come back like... like this."
Was Frankie a dream? A love novel gone bad? A doll gone rotten?
"Pete?
Frankiefrankiefrankie; fucking Frankie Iero who wanted to make him better so he would feel like fucking Santa Clause who kills curious little kittens.
It's a full-fledged mental seizure now; filled with thoughts of Frankie and his warm teasing hands touching and treasuring every inch of him. It was like both of their circulation were cut off from air and frankly?
They were just going crazy now.
You're the punches and I'm the knockout.
His face was an effigy of despair by now. Desperate for Frankie and his pretty mouth.
Pete's drowning in denial; he still didn't care for Frankie that much. And that was ironic; like a claustrophobe who's out to vanquish his fear and ends up in a gas chamber.
"You're on cloud number nine. Who's the bastard?"
You really don't wanna know; look what happened when I tried to. Got so hopelessly tangle in him.
"Frankie Iero." he mutters.
"From all people... it had to be Frankie Iero?" His blue eyes went inky with dark puzzlement.
"It wasn't like that at first. It got messy; messier than I ever thought would be."
"It's kinda... odd, Pete. I mean... you and him? Never saw it coming."
"Neither did I."
"Why?" Seriously?
"I don't even know." But I'm halfway there.
♠ ♠ ♠
You have every right to kill me for this lousy -shortasheck- update >_<