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Gerard had always had trouble falling asleep, but these past few weeks of rest had been especially brutal for him. Frank was gone, and not in the sense that he’d simply gone downstairs to play with his dog, Mama, but instead in the most dreadful way the word hinted towards. The light behind his eyes had been switched off forever.
Frank was dead.
Gerard had never been in love before, had never believed that the hands of romance could latch onto his heart the way it had, but with Frank, it was like all the pessimistic thoughts in his head had screamed ‘Make room!!!' and instead filled his body with the sing-song gift of love. He was pretty sure that at one point, the blood in his veins had even begun to turn heart-shaped.
Gerard took a left turn down Cemetery Drive, the road that, ironically, led to the same cemetery where Frank was buried at. It was around one in the morning, and Gerard’s bleak eyes were burning bright from inside the bruised areas surrounding his eyes. He proceeded to climb over the cemetery’s gate with ease, just like he and Frank used to in order to visit Gerard’s deceased grandma when they were teenagers.
"I wish you’d had told me that you didn’t love me," Gerard whispered to the chilled air around him, having had no trouble finding Frank’s grave in the dark. "I wish you’d said, ‘I change my mind, Gerard. I don’t love you. Stay away from me.’ It would’ve made you leaving me a lot easier,” he admitted, voice growing choked as he rested his cheek against the smooth, cold stone of Frank’s gravestone.
He kept silent for several moments, trying to remember the sound of Frank’s contagious laughter. It’d been too long since he’d heard it; he could no longer remember its correct pitch. “I’m not okay anymore. The world is just so ugly without your smile, you know? And I fucking hate that I can’t be with you, I fucking hate the cancer that’d been in your veins, and I—I want them to bury me in black, right next to you, Frankie.”
He’d spent half a year trying to accept the fact that he’d never feel Frank’s arms around him again, and he was tired, and all he wanted to do was surrender the night and reunite with his lover—his sweet, demolition lover.
And that was exactly what Gerard planned to do. He placed the gun he’d been carrying against his head and didn’t bother counting to the end of three before he pulled the trigger.