Perfect

He Just Can't

Frank's POV

I smacked the bottle away from him, breaking it. I didn't care, what mattered was Gerard. He needs to get better. And I want to help him, I need to help him. Not just for his sake, but for mine. Because if he starts drinking again he'll get sad again. He'll start hurting again. That's the last thing I want, is for Gerard to hurt. If he hurts, he'll only get worse.
Instead of showing him how angry I am, or how worried I am, I just bring him closer and hold him. He just stands there, motionless, still. Why doesn't he care? It's like he has no memory if what he had just done.
I ask him in his ear, "Why Gerard? You can't keep hurting like this." Still, I get nothing from him. Why is he doing this? He needs to see, see that I'm here for him. That if he needs help, I'm here. I always have and I always will be.
I release him from my grip. I run upstairs, I hide. Because if I don't hide, I'll run. I can't run from him, I could never do that.
After a little while I go back downstairs to see that Gerard had left, and all he left was an open fridge and a note on the kitchen table.

Sorry this is really short, also prepare yourself💜