Frank Iero x Reader - I Lied

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A/N:
I am finally up to date with wattpad! I usually post on Tumblr, and for a while i forgot to update wattpad, but that's done now! Yay.
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Being friends with Frank was always spending the breaks together with his arm flung over your shoulder, sitting next to each other in every class, never caring about the evil stares and always ready to tell each other a joke.

Being friends with Frank were sleepovers and watching movies until the early hours of the morning before falling asleep in the same bed or cuddled together on a couch.

Being friends with Frank was sitting in detention together because he spoke his mind in class and got detention and when you said that this was unfair you also got detention. It was a tradition by now.

Being friends with Frank also were rides in his old car, windows down, riding through the night and feeling infinite to the sound of your favorite bands. It was standing on a hill in the middle of nowhere, shouting lyrics at each other, dancing around and feeling powerful enough to take on the entire world. It was sinking down on your knees, when you were out of breath, high from the adrenaline flooding through your veins and slowly finding calm comfort of knowing you would always be there at each other's side.

Being with friends with Frank was mostly loud and rebellious, it was you going to every single one of his concerts, sitting backstage on a table and dangling your feet to the rhythm of the guitar riffs or the drums.

It were his puppy dog eyes when he needed help sewing a new patch to his jacket, and sweets snuck into your locker to surprise you.

It was the exchange of annoyed looks on the sports field when you both had to do things you hated and/ or sucked at. It was him finding you crying behind the school after physical education, because girls continued making fun of you when you were not good at what you had to do. It was him wrapping you in his beloved, patches covered jeans jacket, taking you in his arm and guiding you back inside, daring the others to make fun of you again.

It was you stopping him from beating up bullies who took the sandwiches from younger students, even though they would have deserved it, but you did not want Frank to get into trouble.

It was exchanging foods at lunch you did not like; he got your olives and you got his green beans.

Being friends with Frank was sitting on the small sofa in your room on Sunday evenings, knees pulled up to your chests, quietly imagining which horrors school would confront you with this time. It was wiping tears of each other's cheeks, assuring each other that live would get better, even if you did not believe it yourselves. It was feeling lost in the small room and being unimportant in the big, wide world.

It was helping Frank when he had an anxiety attack that made him curl into a tiny ball, sitting on the floor and shaking. You would wrap your arms around him, hold him tight and stroke his hair until he had calmed down.

It was getting him out of bed when nothing else would because his depression was kicking him down again.

It was sitting in silence next to each other, taking comfort in knowing you were not alone.

Being friends with Frank was sometimes silent.

Being in love with Frank was different. It was your heart racing every time he touched you, breath hitching every time you saw him. It was the urge to touch his hair when he was asleep or cuddle into him. It was heartbreak when you were falling asleep on your own, because you knew that nothing in the world would make it possible for you to be with Frank.

And it was guilt. Guilt because you knew you lied every time you promised to tell each other everything. You did not want to lie to Frank, but you could not tell him either. You were terrified he would find out one day and that he would hate you for it. You could not lose your closest, your best, your only friend over a stupid, stupid crush.

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