Insanity is the Best Form of Happiness || Frerard

1.) Bury Me in Black

The crisp, autumn wind shook the air, as it was late September. It was a rather silent day with only the rustling of leaves and the steps of my old, raggedy Converse on the sidewalk. It was late afternoon, the sun provided no warmth whatsoever. I pulled on the metal handle of the coffee shop door, allowing the scent of coffee and heated air flood out.

"Oh, hey Frank," muttered one of the employees. "The usual?" he asked. I nodded.

I was sleepily sipping my coffee when a dark figure entered the shop. He had long, black hair and was wearing attire to match. Two hazel, eyeliner-rimmed eyes peered out from underneath the dark façade.

He spoke quietly to the cashier, returning to a table with his own cup of coffee. While subconsciously drumming on the lid, waiting for it to cool, he glanced up at me, obviously noticing my staring. I felt his eyes swallow me like a plume of fog wrapping around every part of my body. For that split second, time seemed to stop. Although, when it returned, I quickly flipped my head to the side to avoid further eye contact. I felt like I had just made the most awkward vibe in the history of... vibes. He curled up all the way in the corner of a bench, clearly feeling uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, guilt and anxiety began to consume me; I officially began to feel bad about staring at him. I started to fidget with the edge of my lid, lost in thought. After a few minutes, I grabbed my coffee and exited the building.

I began to shake slightly, replaying the event; I got very nervous and my anxiety kicked in full blast. Since I nearly fell over, I had to take a seat on one of the benches. There was a lady passing by, and she gave me that look of 'what the hell is wrong with you, are you psychotic or something' and continued walking. Becoming engorged in my own thoughts, I'd lost track of reality. I couldn't stop thinking about that boy from the coffee shop. I didn't even know his name, damn it.

My mind was so loud, I hadn't heard the scraping of worn Converse coming from behind me. I felt a light tap on my shoulder, and when I turned around, there stood the boy with the hazel eyes. My emotions began to get confused. I was nervoushappyfrustratedshyanxiousawkwardecstaticconfusedstartledscared (yeah, that's an emotion) and I probably really showed it too. He looked slightly worried, and I guess he had tried speaking to me because he looked as if he were awaiting a response.

"I-I-I'm sorry?" I stuttered.

"I said, 'are you alright?'" he repeated.

"Oh, umm, yeah, I suppose so," I awkwardly sputtered out.

"I was just checking because you didn't look alright," he responded. I just kind of sat there, looking dumbfounded. I guess made the whole thing awkward because he started to walk away.

"Hey, my name's Frank, by the way," I said, innocently. He spun around.

"My name's Gerard." His tone was so shy, it was adorable. There was a long pause, and he began to walk off. I decided to just let him leave; I didn't want to make the situation worse than it already was. That's when I heard a slight ripple of a piece of paper. I turned towards the noise, only to find a small sticky note stuck to my shoulder. It said "Text me(: xoxo -g." Written below it was what I'm guessing to be his number.

This made me giggle like a fangirl in about 16 different directions. With that, I got up and ran right home.

•

Author's Note

Hey, this is my first fanfic. I hope it's alright. Umm, short note. Heh.

~EK