Animals {Frerard}

Chapter 37: End of the line.

Seventeen outfit changes later I'm ready for lunch with Gerard. Call me a drama queen but I can't decide what to wear. In the end I decide on a white t-shirt and grey jeans.  I jog downstairs lightly, hoping my boyfriend hasn't been waiting too long.

Gerard has got changed too, into a smart burgundy shirt and black jeans.

"So," I start, smirking slightly at Gerard. Burgundy makes his eyes look deeper. "Where are we going?"

"Only your favourite restaurant in the world world!" Gerard exclaims, swinging his arms wildly, almost knocking over an entire bookshelf.

"How do you know where that is?" I wonder aloud. I don't remember telling him.

He giggles slightly, his eyes sparkling mischievously.  "Your mum may have told me."

I'm not even surprised. My mum would leap at the possibility of me actually getting a boyfriend.

"Whatever," I grumble. Why is she so embarrassing?

Gerard has a spring in his step as we walk into town, like he's about to meet Santa. I follow a pace or two behind, enjoying the happiness radiating off of him.

It doesn't take long for us to arrive at the familiar restaurant.

Really it's more than familiar. Me and mom came here all the time when I was a kid. Almost every week. She'd always order the same thing: ribs n' chips and a glass of wine. Sometimes she'd let me have a sip.

Sure the place is tacky and cheap as dirt, but it's like a second home to me.

We sit down at a booth in the corner, the velvet upholstery soft and comforting.

We order food and milkshakes. Gerard squeals when he sees macaroni and cheese on the menu. I laugh.

"It's my favourite," he justifies, embarrassed. "But I don't know how to cook it."

His tone is regretful. Melancholy.

There is only one person that lived in Gerard's house who could have cooked him macaroni cheese. And I shot him in the head.

Abruptly, I stand, the chair scraping across the floor in protest.  Gerard looks taken aback.

"I'm sorry, I need the toilet." I force myself to smile at him. "I'll be right back."

I'm unsteady on my feet as I make my way to the men's room.

I shot a man.

I killed him.

He may have been a murderer, but now I am too. Doesn't that make me equally as evil? I splash cold water on my face in an attempt to rid myself of these thoughts. This guilt that's ruining everything. Red and bloodshot eyes stare back at me from the mirror.

I breathe. In and out.

I saved people. I saved Gerard. If Mikey was innocent then it would be murder, but it was the only thing I could do. I had to save Gerard.

I saved Gerard. Surely I deserve a reward for that? Surely this time with him is that reward. I love him. He loves me. Surely that is more important than the past.

I brace myself, then walk back into the dining area, only to find our table empty. My chair is still strewn haphazardly half a metre away from the table. Gerard's is neatly tucked in as though he was never there in the first place.