The Blind Artist (Frerard MCR Fanfic)

Chapter 13

*A/N: Still Gerard's POV 

Chapter 13

"It has been said time heals all wounds. I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens, but it is never gone." - Rose Kennedy.

I hate the night. Whilst it was time for rest for most, it was a time of manic fear for me, I would stay up as long as I could to avoid the dreams. Avoid the monsters in my mind. But eventually my eyes droop and they will me into a deep sleep.

“Hey skeleton boy!” I hear the gruff drunken voice that had called to me before. Looking up from under my lashes I see him staggering forward with a beer can crushed in his grubby hands. “Aren’t you pretty… I love a bit of meat on their bones.” He says moving almost like a zombie, slow, dragging and sloppy, but still closer. The hairs prickle on my arms, my eyes widen and I have to tense or I think I might just pee myself. “I bet you’d be a nice little f*ck. A first time I’m guessing, that is if you haven’t got a little faggy boyfriend already to pop your cherry.” He dribbles down his chin, his speech slurred and as he gets closer I notice the vomity p*ss stains coating his clothes. He’s young, he’s in his late teens from signs like his fraternity ring, youthful figure and looks. If he wasn’t so p*ssed I would have said he was a handsome jock, but the mess in front of me was one frat party too many.

If I had the balls to become unfrozen I would gladly get the hell out of here, yet I see something in his eyes that strikes pure terror in me. It’s an anger, an aggression and jealously all coupled with a lust that makes me want to head-butt him so hard his pea sized brain spins in his dense skull. So I find my feet with only makes me closer to him, his stench of puke and alcohol mixed with expensive cologne makes me want to gag, it reaches down the back of my throat and makes my stomach churn. He’s taller than me, stronger than me and a lot more powerful. But I stand tall. That is until his fist comes flying up and decks me right on the jaw.

My eyes roll back, my whole body jerks and my face feels like a jackhammer had been plummeted through my skull. Pain. All I could think about was the pain as my teeth crunched back with my jaw and I fell on my ass. As I fell I felt the tug at the collar of my costume, my neck snapped back as my body was pulled close to the guy’s face. I could feel his warm breath move the hair on my face away, his stench of breath filling my nose and his bloodshot eyes probing my own.

“I was going to f*ck you, but now I’ve seen what a f*cking p*ssy you are it makes me want to f*cking murder you.”  

“Gee! It’s okay… I’m here! It’s okay… please wake up, you’re scaring me.” I am jolted awake by a quiet sob and a callused finger across my cheek. I feel a small wet spot hit my bare chest and I instantly pull Frank to me.

“I’m sorry… please, don’t be upset.” I beg, it’s as if I can feel every emotion draining from his skin into mine which makes me even more sensitive. I don’t think I can go back to sleep now.

Everybody has a personae that they like to project to the world. Sometimes this is intentional due to the fact that a great many of us would think that others would never like us if we tried to be who we really are. And then there are people like Frank, who are so much more than they seem to be. It’s not that they are trying to be somebody else. They are just so easily pigeonholed and classified by people that their true personality never seems to escape that label.

“Muh-muh-mu-muh.” I hear in response against my chest, I gasp and loosen my hold on him. He chuckles and pulls back a little. “I said, It’s okay now Gee.” He tells me as I feel him sweep my hair from my forehead, I missed the shaggy stands that tickled my neck, and I missed the feel of Franks hand in it as I slept.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep again, you can go back to bed if you want.” I say tired and scared, he has been doing this for so long I felt guilty; so guilty that I had taken up so much of his time that he hardly slept himself.

“No, I’ll stay up, I like hanging out with you… whatever you do in here.” We settle down a little, making ourselves comfortable, he’s sat on the edge of my bed but rests his hand on my knee lightly.

“I write.” I say in a breath, my shoulders sag with the release of it, I hadn’t told anyone. I had bigger secrets sure but even Mikey didn’t know I still took up writing after the accident. “Mainly comic ideas but as soon as I find one I forget it within minutes.” I begin to explain, I had acquired the art of ‘touch typing’ where each letter on a keyboard linked to a symbol and when my earphones were in would voice the letters out to me as the screen was too bright to even make out anything.

“Maybe one day you’ll finish one and I can read it?” he says hopefully and a small part inside of me saddens over the fact that there may not be a one day. Without my eyes I wouldn’t be able to finish anything, I had no release, no experimenting with my forms of art.

“Maybe.” I shrug it off not wanting to explain, and am suddenly hit with a tingle in my finger. “What do you look like?” it comes out of me like word vomit, it whispers through my lips and I feel soft hands touch mine.

“Here.” He says, his breath fanning my hands as he guides them up.

We connect. The skin of my hands on the skin of his face, I get a warmth tumbling through me, building up from the pit of my stomach it’s like the thing in Alien where it bursts through the guy’s chest. Don’t ruin the moment Gee.

My fingers trace his face, its rounded with a pointed jaw, not square but rounded, pretty like a heart shape. His cheekbones are high but don’t poke through the skin and his nose is straight before it rounds off- it’s perfect, not a bump, no slope down or a point up like my own. I feel the drooping of his eyes and spread my fingers out to his cheeks where I follow his jaw to his lips, my thumb grazes them they are thin but hit bottom lip is smooth and plump I gasp as it traces a spike of coolness. Metal. A lip ring. I feel every imperfection, yet they are what make him perfect, make me envy him for it.