Frerard Oneshots | (finished ig)

I can hear the Wind

Warnings: contains suicide.

It's also sad so plz don't read if you've had a bad day or want some fluff. If you want fluff go check out my story 'hello there stranger' but just don't read this. Why the hell am I writing sad things only in this oneshot book. I need to write some fluff.

But hey. If you're feeling particularly masochistic then go ahead.

Oh and I should probably mention that if you have a request for a oneshot you want me to write then PM me.

You always loved the wind didn't you Frank?

Especially when it was stormy.

You said it made you feel comforted, not so alone in the world. Because if you really thought about it, the wind was just nature's way of screaming.

Storms where your favourite. You told me it let you know that even the sky screamed sometimes.

Every time it's stormy outside I think of you.

I think of the whirlwind of a person you where, chaotic to some, yet peaceful to others.

Storms remind me of the time you screamed at your parents for not accepting you. Storms remind me of the time you ran the 5 miles to mine through the thunder just to curl up in my arms and scream away all the emotions bubbling under your skin.

The rain on the other hand...

The rain reminds me of the times your cried. Your cries were silent, tears falling silently down your face yet no matter what you did, you simply could't stop them from pouring down.

I never liked it when you cried, because you always seemed so utterly helpless, and no matter what I did I felt like I couldn't help you.

So every time I hear the rain I can't help but feel a surge of guilt run through me. Was this my fault? Did I not do enough?

The rain reminds me of my own tears. The tears that would come every time you pushed me away.

But it's the wind that hurts the most.

The wind was your favourite.

You said it made you feel so free and at peace with the world, that if you believed hard enough you could let the wind carry you far far away from all of the pain you felt inside you.

You said that it was one of your escapes, and for just a moment, standing there with me made you feel like it would all be ok in the end.

With you, the wind was always welcome, even as it pushed and fought against me. But now the wind pierces through my skin right through to my soul, a cruel reminder of how things turned out.

The wind hurts now. It always feels colder now that you aren't here.

The wind reminds me of the night you left me.

The night I came home to deathly silence. The wind pushed and howled against the door frames and shook the window panes.

I remember pushing open the already ajar bedroom door only to find you, sitting there, a small smile on your face and tear tracks staining your cheeks.

Even before I reached you I knew what you'd done.

I'm so sorry Frankie. I should have listened more to you when you told me how much you hurt. When you told me that sometimes the pain got to much for you to handle.

I never really did anything to help did I? I really should of and I regret it every day.

I can hear the wind now Frank. As I sit here on the bedroom floor. The same place I found you.

This one corner almost seems unreal. But maybe that's because my brain has refused to accept that your gone now, and sometimes when I get home from work I still call out your name expecting to see you sitting on the sofa playing guitar.

But every time I hear the wind It's a cruel harsh reminder that you won't be here to greet me anymore. To hand me coffee in the mornings, to show me the latest tune you made up, to applause my stupid sketches I do of you when you sit, because you looked so peaceful there, when in fact you weren't really at peace where you?

I can hear the wind howling and pushing it's way through the house. The feeble windows seem like they will shatter at any given time.

Ill be there soon. Because I'm not sure how long I can keep coming back to an empty house and an empty heart.

You promised me Frank. You promised we'd grow old together. What ever happened to that?

I think it all got too much for you. The pain built up and up before finally bursting.

Every day I regret not being home for you. Each and every day I run over different scenarios in my head about how I could have saved you. How I could have come back and rocked you in my arms. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Making sure you got the help you need.

I was a fool.

But I was your fool.

I'll be joining you soon I suppose. Save a space for me will you.

I love you.