The Blind Artist (Frerard MCR Fanfic)

Chapter 30

*A/N: this is a very short but important chapter so please enjoy as I wrote this in celebration of finishing my last college exams! Wishing everyone doing exams and stuff good luck and thank you for being supportive with this story! Please do vote, share and comment as I love to hear from my readers! P.S Oh my Gerard who else loves Frank's new hair!? Xx

Chapter 30

I sit in my art room with my head in my hands, the floor littered with coffee mugs and the air stuffy with smoke. I felt lost in this room, like I didn't belong anymore, yet I had to battle myself as to carry on. To draw and paint and sketch like it was my own form of therapy. It isn't until I hear a persistent knocking on the door that I take my head out of my hands and my fingers out of the blonde sloppy mop of hair.

I stumble out from the room, the light hitting my face I snarl and wince. It had been days since I had even moved from the dark room trying to just vent out my frustration in a mess of swirls, aliens and zombies across the page.

My grey shirt is loose at the neck showing my collar bone protruding from my skin and my blue jeans are torn and frayed at the knees, but to be honest I don't care. I could be in blue slacks and a sweater vest like a grandpa and I wouldn't care.

The knocking gets louder and louder as I go through my dark house, the sound of the rain echoing and ricocheting on the roof pounds with my steps.

"Hold on, don't get your panties in a twist, I gave you a key for a reason Mikey don't make me regret giving it to you." I grumble as I unlock the door, the slide bolt, top and bottom lock and the latch.

The sight in front of me makes my eyes fog. The small boy, man, before me stands wet through and shaking from nervousness or the cold I don't know but it makes me step forward. The act leaves me to be hit by the cold rain, it instantly soaking me through.

My hand raises to his cheek, not a word spoken but the heavy breathing and drumming in my chest from my heart going crazy. I don't believe in love at first sight, I loved him before I set eyes on him but now I know. I know that those eyes will never have a colour to resemble it, I will never be able to recreate the beauty of the clover and olive coloured iris and the way there are light fairy dust gold flecks in them as if they have captured the stars. His nose perfectly straight just like his jaw and heart shaped face, but now I can see the small bump by his thick angled eyebrows and the holes where he had once worn a lip or nose ring. His cheeks hold a light blush as he bites on his lip to stop the plump bottom one from trembling and his short cut hair falls softly flat against his forehead with the wetness of the rain. He falls, slumps to his knees at my feet in sobs and I caress his head against where it rests on my belly. His hands come up to frame my hips in a hug as if he is begging and praying as I run my fingers through the short hair and blink away the tears with the rain.

"Welcome home." I whisper as I lean down to kiss his forehead and pull him into the house.