[SLOW UPDATES] The Stroke of Midnight

Nine.

After some deliberation, I'm back, and decided that this chapter is going to be my first update back on this account. Let's see if my writing has improved at all lmao

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Gerard was still in awe, his mind in disbelief as he walked over to the couch that Frank was quietly sat on, sitting down himself. He knew he was just supposed to be out getting produce, and he knew that Stepmother would most likely be wondering where he was if he stayed out for longer than usual, but if Gerard was being honest? He didn't care, not one bit.

As he and Frank sat in a comfortable silence, Gerard thought about what he had dealt with since his father's death. The neglect, the unprovoked insults, and now unprovoked abuse, was something that Gerard was beginning to realize that he did not deserve. He did not need to endure this, and Frank was most likely his ticket to freedom, his chance at being happy.

Frank reached over, gently grabbing Gerard's hand. "What's on your mind, sweet thing?" He queried quietly, looking at Gerard with curious eyes.

Gerard laughed humorlessly to himself, shaking his head as he turned to face Frank. "Honestly, it doesn't matter. Now that I'm here with you, I'm the happiest I've been in such a long time." He felt a bubble of emotion rise in his chest as Frank smiled sweetly at him, leaning in for a kiss.

If there was one thing Gerard was sure he would never get tired of, if was kissing Frank. The way their lips danced together was something he was quickly growing addicted to, and he never wanted it to stop.

The two were lost in each other, Gerard reaching up and threading his fingers through Frank's lengthy hair. Frank moaned slightly into the kiss, reaching up to cup Gerard's cheek.

Gerard had momentarily forgotten about his injuries, so when he felt the pressure on his bruised cheek, he winced, pulling away from Frank as he tensed.

"Gerard? What's wrong?" Frank asked, looking confused as he watched Gerard raise his hand to his cheek, a panicked look on his face. Frank looked down at his hand, furrowing his eyebrows in pure confusion when he saw the powdery substance that was the same tone as Gerard's cheek.

Frank looked back at Gerard, who was looking away in embarrassment. Frank reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief embroidered with his name. He reached over, grabbing Gerard's wrist and pulling his hand away from his cheek. Frank looked at Gerard sadly, noting the tears in his eyes. "Please." He whispered, watching Gerard slowly take the handkerchief and get up, going into the next room to wipe off the make up without Frank seeing.

Why was Gerard wearing make up? Why did he look so upset that Frank found out? The fact that Gerard was seemingly in pain when Frank touched his cheek is what bothered and, frankly, angered him the most. Who caused him to be hurt like that? Gerard was a gentle soul, Frank could tell, why would anyone ever want to hurt him?

Footsteps approached the couch, and Frank looked up, feeling an ache in his chest as Gerard avoided eye contact, sitting back down in his spot on the couch, and clenching the embroidered cloth in his hands.

When Gerard was wiping the makeup off of his face, he didn't think the bruises would be so bad. As the substance came off however, and his injuries became visible, there was no way that he would be able to contain his tears. He made them useful, however, using the moisture to help get the rest of the make up off of his skin.

The bridge of Gerard's nose was a mixture of blue and purple, tender to the touch. The bruise on his cheek was now very visible as well, a dark purple blemish that made him cringe, accompanied with a cut on his cheekbone. As he cried and used the salty tears to get the rest of the makeup off of his face, he was terrified of what Frank would think. How would perfect Frank react, viewing Gerard's disgusting imperfections?

Frank grabbed Gerard's hands, sighing as his eyes roamed over his bruises. Gerard looked at him, surprised at the level of emotion in his eyes. "Who did this to you?" Frank asked, his eyes pleading with Gerard for him to speak.

"My Stepmother." Gerard spoke, deciding to just come clean about everything. "My mother died when I was very young, I don't even think my brother was a year old. I don't remember much about her, but she was very sweet, so when my father begun courting my stepmother, I assumed she would be the same way." Gerard laughed humorlessly. "I was wrong. From the beginning, she was just...inconsiderate. She got a cat, even though my father told her that I was allergic. Once my father died, she just became wicked. She favored Mikey - my brother, and they just made me the servant of the house. I do the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry, the mending, the shopping - I do everything, and when I don't do a satisfactory job, I usually get scolded, but today...she beat me. She told me to put on makeup before I went into town, so people didn't wonder why my face was uglier than normal. I didn't want you to see, because you're so perfect, Frank, and you don't deserve to have feelings for me, someone who's littered with imperfections."

Frank gasped, utterly shocked that Gerard could be hurt and treated so terribly by the people who were supposed to love and care for him the most. Gerard sighed shakily as a tear rolled down his cheek, making Frank's heart ache.

"Gerard, I'm not perfect." Frank spoke, biting his lip when Gerard scoffed, clearly thinking otherwise. Knowing there was most likely no other way to get his point across, Frank took in a deep breath, and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Gerard watched in confusion, but Frank saw the confusion go to shock when Frank undid all of the buttons and shrugged his shirt off, the scars on his chest becoming visible. "When I was sixteen, I met a boy named Ryan who, at the time, was the only boy I knew who was attracted to males, not females. I brought him back to the palace, and while we were getting intimate, my father burst in. He took Ryan away, and convinced himself that I was sick. He sent me to some treatment facility to cure me, but it was all some sick joke. They did experiments on me, starved me, whipped me, burnt me, cut me, beat me, all because I'm not attracted to women. I faked my way out of there, finding ways to pass their assessments in ways that pleased those monsters, and they let me go. I didn't want to show you my scars, because I didn't want you, a man who is nothing less than perfect in my eyes, to witness my imperfections."

Gerard reached forward, tracing the jagged lines and letting his eyes roam over Frank's scarred torso, and Frank let his eyes close, fighting the tears as Gerard examined the remnants of his torture. In that moment, both of the men realized something.

They were both afraid of showing the other what they viewed as imperfections, but neither of them cared about the others blemishes, because in each other's eyes, the other was nothing shy of a beautiful work of art - perfection in their own way.

"Gerard," Frank spoke, kneeling on the floor in front of Gerard, clasping their hands together. "I never want you to experience that kind of hurt ever again; you don't deserve it at all."

"What am I supposed to do, Frank? I have no where else to go, I have no other option than to just live with it." Gerard spoke, not knowing what Frank was insinuating.

"You do have another option, Gerard," Frank spoke, a small smile on his face as he gazed up at Gerard. "Run away with me."