Call of the Siren » Frerard

FIVE

V: in the dark, we dance together, along to the tune of the kitsfort blues

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Frank was sniffling up a storm as he cradled into the hoodie wrapped warm around his shivering form once more. Friday morning was upon him, the wreckage from the storm calming to an eerie silence, his nose flushed permanently red from the onslaught of tissues brought upon it to clear his sinuses.

Already, he'd worked up a cold, eyes blinking through the groggy film covering them. He felt heavy in the brisk chill of the early morning from where he was stood on his front stoop, awaiting for Gerard to show as seven o'clock rang across the town -- birds chirping somewhere in the near distance. The skies were suddenly cool once more, surreal compared to the furious, angry gray they'd held just hours ago.

Morning had just barely risen upon them, Frank bouncing on his ears whilst tugging his beanie tighter over his ears. The skies were wisping with gentle clouds as if nothing had even happened that previous night in the first place -- the horizon painted with messy strokes of thick oranges and pinks over the shreds of the water that Frank could see from where he stood.

He let himself relax as the neighboring house finally swung its front door open -- his ghost boy stepping out, and Frank sighing in relief, now assured that he wasn't dead.

Gerard's hair was tied back into a messy little bun -- barely enough hair to do such, spare strands flitting into his face as the seaside breeze lapped gently at his face. He seemed to be surprised to see Frank standing there already waiting for him, which, in all honesty, Frank was too.

Gerard's neck was bundled in a thick scarf, striped and falling down the front of the dark jacket swathed around him -- a gentle smile growing on his tired lips as Frank hopped off his porch, the two meeting halfway as Gerard stepped to the sidewalk. "Took you long enough," Frank teased.

"I wasn't expecting you to be outside waiting," Gerard defended, a crooked smile on his face before it fell -- and their task was planted inside their mind once more, a solemn expression falling over the ghost boy's face as he frowned towards the distance

They started walking immediately, no time to waste -- with a full day of school calling their name in less than a mere two hours. Frank was sure that his mother wouldn't be pleased when she discovered that Frank had snuck out again -- but he was trying to keep it away from the focus of his mind. He knew that, especially after her worry last night, that going out once more -- while sick, would kill his mother, but he'd made a promise to Gerard, and he had to keep it, even if it meant trouble for him.

Frank was sure that she would begin thinking that Gerard was a bad influence soon enough, constantly dragging him out of the house for the most trivial, not quite conventional of things -- but, Frank was trying to avoid that fact, too, pursing his lips.

Frank glanced over as Gerard bit back a yawn, his eyes red around the edges as he blinked away the drowsiness washing over him -- the morning sun shining against his face, a grog settling low between the two as they endured the brisk chill of the streets. Frank was still sniffling, on the other hand, sneezing into a tissue as he cringed at the thick mucus coming up with it. "Gross." He muttered, wiping his nose further.

Gerard glanced over, clad with pursed lips and a slightly unreadable expression, as always. "Did I get you sick?" He asked, gaze on Frank.

Frank glanced back over, hesitating. "Oh. Um, yeah, but... it's okay. I'm used to it."

Gerard frowned further, biting his lip as his gloved fingers fiddled. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," Frank replied, smiling a gentle smile of assurance whilst Gerard managed a weak one back.