Love Looks Not With The Eyes, Ch. 1
Title: Love Looks Not With The Eyes
Author: 1_crashqueen_1
Bandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Gerard/Frank, Ray/OC
Rating: NC-17 for language and sexual situations
Disclaimer: Alas, this is all just my imagination. Too bad though.
Summary: Gerard is a hard-working guy, just trying to make a living doing what he loves. And along comes someone who can open up his eyes. Even if that someone can't see. But doesn't everyone deserve love?
Authors Notes: So this is gonna be a short little fic, maybe 5-7 chapters? What will be, will be. Anyway, a bajillion thanks to innocent_wolves for helping me get my shit together. Story is under the cut.
“Move your body when the sunlight dies, everybody hide your body from the scarecrow. Everybody hide….”
The red-haired man on the sidewalk sang into a small microphone. To the left and slightly behind him, was another man with wily hair gently picking melodies on his guitar. The case was left open for people to toss money into. The man’s voice had a genuine vulnerability to it, as well as a hint of raspy edge, which intrigued many. As the song went on, the music had grown more and more intense, more powerful.
“Move your body when the sunlight dies, everybody hide your body from the scarecrow-oh. Everybody hide, everybody hide, everybody-” His voice broke off suddenly, as if he choked on his own words. He looked down. The guitarist stopped playing his ever-building tune. Raising his head slowly, he looked out to the compelled crowd.
“Move your body when the sunlight dies….everybody hide your body from the scarecrow,” he whisper-sang. “Everybody hide.” A round of applause greeted him, and he seemed to be jerked into reality. The song had been the last of the set, songs of which he himself had written. It was always hard to come back to life after a performance.
“Excuse me?” a quiet voice said as the pair was packing up their things. There stood a small man, looking at nothing in particular. He ran a hand through his disheveled dark brown hair. He wore jeans, dark sunglasses, and a solid maroon sweater. Beside him, a beagle stood alert.
“How can I help you, sir?” the guitarist asked. “I’m Ray, by the way. And this is Gerard.”
“Frank,” the man said. He seemed to have focused more on Ray now, as opposed to just staring off into space. He smacked a hand down on his upper thigh, and then dragged it until his hand found his pocket. He pulled out a $20 bill and held it out with both hands towards the two men. “Could you tell me what sort of bill this is?” he asked.
“Uh…” Gerard said. “It’s a twenty, man.”
“Oh, perfect.” The mans face lit up with relief. “Ten for both of you. Go ahead, take it. You guys are awesome.” He waved the bill around. Cautiously, Ray took it from the strange fellow.
“Yeah…um, thanks dude. I mean, Frank,” he corrected with a wide smile. Frank let out a sigh.
“I can hear the confusion in your voice. You must think I’m so creepy. Sorry about that,” he said, looking off into the distance at nothing. Gerard looked in the direction of Frank‘s stare but saw nothing. “I just find it extremely stupid to go around saying, ‘Hello, I’m Frank Iero and I’m a blind guy!’ you know?”
Gerard withheld sucking in his breath too loudly. The guy was blind. You couldn
’t tell with the glasses, except for the fact that he didn’t always look at you when he spoke. That explained also his behavior with the twenty. And perhaps the beagle was his seeing eye dog? Either way, the man was unkempt and looked somewhat sad. But Gerard knew nothing about blind people. His heart went out to the poor man. He wished he knew how to help Frank.
“Sorry, man. Seriously. And thanks so much for the twenty,” Gerard said earnestly. The man nodded sort of turned his head away, probably his way of saying he was done talking. Gerard said a quick goodbye and started off to the coffee shop with Ray, where they’d play another set.
~
On the short walk back to their apartment, Ray saw Frank again. He was sitting up against the wall of an abandoned building, his dog in his lap, not two blocks from where he’d met Gerard and Ray. He pointed him out and immediately Gerard stopped him to talk to Frank. He’d taken his sunglasses off, revealing large hazel eyes with no sense of life to them.
“Hello, Frank!” Gerard chirped. Frank tilted his head up in the direction of the voice.
“Is that…Gerard?” he asked. Wow, Frank had remembered the voice of someone he’d never met before.
“Indeed it is. How are you? Why are you sitting here?” Gerard enquired, crouching in front of Frank. Frank shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh.
“It’s a long, precarious sob story that I won’t bother you guys with. The basic deal is that this is where I’ll be living from now on,” he answered, chuckling sadly. Gerard winced, touching Frank’s shoulder gently. Frank jumped a little, but quickly relaxed. “Oh! …I’m sorry. Didn‘t expect that. I know I smell rank right now.”
“Don’t apologize,” Gerard told him, frowning. “I’m sure whatever it is, it wasn’t your fault, Frank.” He ran a hand through his fading hair, perplexed.
A blind man on the streets? What would he do, beg for change, then trust some stranger to bring him food? It would never work. Ray noticed Gerard
’s distress and helped him up. He started to pull Gerard away.
“See you two later!” Frank chirped with fake happiness, hearing their shoes on the pavement. And something in his tone must have played at Gerard’s heartstrings, because he told Ray to stop and turned back to the blind man.
“Frank…have you been out on the streets long?” Gerard asked.
“Well…let me see,” Frank said, thinking. “Every afternoon the woman from the coffee shop brings me a donut or something…and she’s done it six times. Six days, I guess,” he said. Gerard winced again, feeling so bad for Frank, who seemed like an interesting and genuinely nice guy.
“Well, y’know, you gave us that twenty and you’ve been so cool to us…” he said nervously, scratching his neck. Frank looked up, seeming puzzled. “If you wanted to come back to our place and get cleaned up and stuff, stay for a few nights, that’d be okay with us.” Ray jabbed his friend in the ribs, but Gerard ignored him.
Frank tried several times to find the right words, finally just giving a simple “Yes!” and beaming. Begrudgingly, Ray rolled his eyes, helped him up, and both of them guided Frank down the street.
“Hey, Frank,” Ray said, trying to start conversation. “Is that dog your sight aid or what?” Frank giggled, stooping a little and patting his lap twice. The dog reacted and yipped, jumping up and scrabbling at Frank’s legs. He held out his hands and the dog fit into them perfectly. He brought the dog to his chest, giggling once more. Even though he was happy, his eyes still didn’t light up at all. It was a little eerie but mostly sad.
“Oliver? Nah, not trained by the big shots or anything. He used to help me get around the house. We have little signals for stairs or dead ends. Basic communicative stuff, you know? He’s pretty smart, though, so I’d reckon he’s better than any Seeing Eye Dog bullshit you’ll ever met! Eh, little guy?” Frank explained. Ray and Gerard laughed and agreed with him, as Oliver was pretty adorable.
It turned out that Frank had a lot to say, if you’d only listen. He had an amazing taste in music, although he confessed he loved all music, really, and would listen to whatever you gave him. The one thing he failed to mention was his past. Who had he lived with previously? Oliver couldn’t help him enough for Frank to live on his own. Why had he been thrown out on the street? Frank wasn’t dumb or anything. He was smart, and loved people. Gerard decided not to push Frank, though. Maybe he wasn’t ready to tell his “sob story” anyway.
Gerard and Ray helped their new friend up the stairs and tried their best to familiarize him with his new surroundings.
“Hey Frank?” Gerard said, guiding him to a couch. “You sit here, I’ll get some water running…er, what do you do? Shower, bath?” Gerard really had no idea what to do, as he’d never been around a blind guy before.
“It’s stupid, I know, but I can shower if I have someone outside to help. Like, holding the towel and soap and stuff. I know it’s a pain,” Frank replied, sounding ashamed. Gerard shook his head before realizing Frank couldn’t see him.
“Hey. It’s not stupid, I’ll help you, okay?” As awkward as it felt, Gerard set his resolve to help this guy with anything, however awkward or personal it may be. Frank was like a lost cat or something, needing to be taken in.
Gerard helped Frank to the bathroom, leaving Oliver in the living room, and tried not to look as Frank shed his clothing, despite the fact that Frank would never know. He succeeded in removing his shirt, shoes, and socks, but was struggling with the complications of his belt. He let out a frustrated sigh.
“Uh…” he murmured.
“Say no more, I’ll help,” Gerard said. Gently, he unhooked the belt, sliding it off Frank with ease. His breath was caught in his throat for some reason. It felt too intimate, doing this, but he kept reminding himself he was only helping. He was absentmindedly sliding Frank’s pants down like one would for a toddler when Frank stopped him.
“Gerard….I, uh, I can take it from here,” he stuttered, pushing Gerard’s hands away. Gerard jumped up and backed off, blushing furiously. He hadn’t even meant to do that, he had just been helping and…oh, what a loser he was.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. Frank chuckled, now fully naked.
“It’s fine, could you, uh, open the curtain? To the shower, I mean,” he replied. You could reach out and grab the awkward in the air. Gerard slid the curtain open and helped Frank in, shivering at the warmth of his skin and failing to stop staring at the stranger’s backside. The water was already running. Gerard slid the curtain shut and steeled his nerves a bit, walking the clothes down to the wash. It was no secret that he played both teams, and Frank was very attractive. But he felt it was a jerk move to stare at Frank that way when he wouldn’t even know. Frank wasn’t a stupid kid, but he had to be treated with care and respect. At least, that was what Gerard felt.
“How you doin’ in there, man?” he called when he returned.
“F-fine.” Frank answered. “Could you, um…squirt some shampoo into my hand?” A hand appeared from behind the shower curtain, palm cupped. Gerard pulled the shampoo bottle from the stack of supplies on the counter (he’d pulled them from the shower to administer them to Frank) and squirted a dollop of the stuff into Frank’s open hand.
“What else?” he asked. Frank assured him he was fine at the moment and started to hum as he showered. Gerard recognized the tune immediately. The song he’d been playing this morning, Summertime. He was touched that anyone remembered it.
“Hey Gerard…” Frank mumbled again some time later, still embarrassed. “Can you give me the soap?” Again, a hand appeared.
“Sure thing,” he replied, passing the bar to him. He sat on the counter, swinging his legs, trying to mentally bleach the image of Frank naked from his brain. No success. These awkward exchanges happened a couple more times before Frank quietly declared he was ready to get out and dry off.
“So, you can…just hand me the towel?” Frank said. Gerard snorted.
“The water is still running, it’ll get soaked and be useless,” Gerard replied. “It’s no big deal, Frank, I said I’d help you, remember?” He swept the curtain back without glancing at Frank, turning off the water of the shower and beckoning the poor guy out in the cold air. He shivered, exposed. Gerard draped one of the bigger towels over his lithe frame and he jumped. Gerard hadn’t meant to startle him or anything. Frank grabbed the towel and quickly dried his hair. Gerard stole a few glances. He was petite, but also strangely beautiful.
“Thanks, man,” Frank said, finding his way to the door quickly. Gerard followed close behind unless he fell or something. He felt his way to the couch and sat down, still wrapped in the towel. Oliver immediately jumped into Frank’s lap. Ray had disappeared somewhere, probably glued to the computer. Frank’s clothes were still in the wash. They sat in silence until the doorbell rang. Oliver jumped up and yipped a couple times. Gerard answered, nearly being mowed over as a perky brunette girl forced herself into the house.
“Hiiiiii, Gerard,” she said, giggling. Frank listened intently but didn’t say anything.
“Hey, Sam,” Gerard replied. She giggled again.
“I think you might’ve gotten some of my mail..?” she said, clasping her hands together tightly. Gerard nodded, mumbling something about a magazine and leaving the room. Sitting down by the still damp Frank, she didn’t seem to notice the fact that he was only concealed by a towel.
“H-hi,” Frank mumbled.
“Hi…oh my gosh! He’s so hot,” she gushed.
“Who? Gerard?” Frank asked, confused. She nodded. Of course, Frank didn’t have any idea she had done that, and just sat there, waiting for a response. She frowned, staring at his odd eyes and vacant expression.
“Uh…” she said. “Yeah. Anyway, Gerard didn’t actually accidentally get my mail,” she revealed, not bothering to wait for a response. “I just planted the mail to get an excuse to talk to him. He’s just SOOO cute and I know he’ll like me eventually.”
Frank grunted what he hoped constituted as an agreement, quickly getting bored with this chirpy and floozy girl. At just the right time, Gerard returned with a magazine and two envelopes.
“Here you go, Sam. Sorry about that. Don’t know how that keeps happening..” he muttered, rolling his eyes. She smiled, thanking him.
“Oh, and who’s your creepy friend?” she whispered. Gerard’s eyes widened. Frank obviously heard her, but chose to stay silent. ”Like, is he retarded or something?” She giggled, acting like she was being so subtle.
Gerard looked over at poor Frank. He was a little guy, wrapped in a towel and looking so utterly vulnerable with those big, sad eyes. Anger swelled up in Gerard’s heart. Calling a blind person retarded was terrible, but so was calling anyone retarded, right?
“Are you serious?” he fumed, stepping away from Sam. “Are you actually standing in my house and calling someone that?”
“I…no, but he..”
“Shut up. He’s fucking blind, and it isn’t his fault. Even if he was ‘retarded’ you have no right to call him that. Have some class! And get the fuck out of my house.” Gerard turned and grabbed Frank’s hand. “C’mon Frank, let’s go get your clothes out of the wash.
“Okay,” was all he said in reply. He heard Sam huff as she stomped out the door and he grinned. “Why did you do that anyway?”
Gerard chuckled. “Never let anyone call you stupid, Frankie.”
Hope it doesn't suck!
Author: 1_crashqueen_1
Bandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Gerard/Frank, Ray/OC
Rating: NC-17 for language and sexual situations
Disclaimer: Alas, this is all just my imagination. Too bad though.
Summary: Gerard is a hard-working guy, just trying to make a living doing what he loves. And along comes someone who can open up his eyes. Even if that someone can't see. But doesn't everyone deserve love?
Authors Notes: So this is gonna be a short little fic, maybe 5-7 chapters? What will be, will be. Anyway, a bajillion thanks to innocent_wolves for helping me get my shit together. Story is under the cut.
“Move your body when the sunlight dies, everybody hide your body from the scarecrow. Everybody hide….”
The red-haired man on the sidewalk sang into a small microphone. To the left and slightly behind him, was another man with wily hair gently picking melodies on his guitar. The case was left open for people to toss money into. The man’s voice had a genuine vulnerability to it, as well as a hint of raspy edge, which intrigued many. As the song went on, the music had grown more and more intense, more powerful.
“Move your body when the sunlight dies, everybody hide your body from the scarecrow-oh. Everybody hide, everybody hide, everybody-” His voice broke off suddenly, as if he choked on his own words. He looked down. The guitarist stopped playing his ever-building tune. Raising his head slowly, he looked out to the compelled crowd.
“Move your body when the sunlight dies….everybody hide your body from the scarecrow,” he whisper-sang. “Everybody hide.” A round of applause greeted him, and he seemed to be jerked into reality. The song had been the last of the set, songs of which he himself had written. It was always hard to come back to life after a performance.
“Excuse me?” a quiet voice said as the pair was packing up their things. There stood a small man, looking at nothing in particular. He ran a hand through his disheveled dark brown hair. He wore jeans, dark sunglasses, and a solid maroon sweater. Beside him, a beagle stood alert.
“How can I help you, sir?” the guitarist asked. “I’m Ray, by the way. And this is Gerard.”
“Frank,” the man said. He seemed to have focused more on Ray now, as opposed to just staring off into space. He smacked a hand down on his upper thigh, and then dragged it until his hand found his pocket. He pulled out a $20 bill and held it out with both hands towards the two men. “Could you tell me what sort of bill this is?” he asked.
“Uh…” Gerard said. “It’s a twenty, man.”
“Oh, perfect.” The mans face lit up with relief. “Ten for both of you. Go ahead, take it. You guys are awesome.” He waved the bill around. Cautiously, Ray took it from the strange fellow.
“Yeah…um, thanks dude. I mean, Frank,” he corrected with a wide smile. Frank let out a sigh.
“I can hear the confusion in your voice. You must think I’m so creepy. Sorry about that,” he said, looking off into the distance at nothing. Gerard looked in the direction of Frank‘s stare but saw nothing. “I just find it extremely stupid to go around saying, ‘Hello, I’m Frank Iero and I’m a blind guy!’ you know?”
Gerard withheld sucking in his breath too loudly. The guy was blind. You couldn
’t tell with the glasses, except for the fact that he didn’t always look at you when he spoke. That explained also his behavior with the twenty. And perhaps the beagle was his seeing eye dog? Either way, the man was unkempt and looked somewhat sad. But Gerard knew nothing about blind people. His heart went out to the poor man. He wished he knew how to help Frank.
“Sorry, man. Seriously. And thanks so much for the twenty,” Gerard said earnestly. The man nodded sort of turned his head away, probably his way of saying he was done talking. Gerard said a quick goodbye and started off to the coffee shop with Ray, where they’d play another set.
~
On the short walk back to their apartment, Ray saw Frank again. He was sitting up against the wall of an abandoned building, his dog in his lap, not two blocks from where he’d met Gerard and Ray. He pointed him out and immediately Gerard stopped him to talk to Frank. He’d taken his sunglasses off, revealing large hazel eyes with no sense of life to them.
“Hello, Frank!” Gerard chirped. Frank tilted his head up in the direction of the voice.
“Is that…Gerard?” he asked. Wow, Frank had remembered the voice of someone he’d never met before.
“Indeed it is. How are you? Why are you sitting here?” Gerard enquired, crouching in front of Frank. Frank shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh.
“It’s a long, precarious sob story that I won’t bother you guys with. The basic deal is that this is where I’ll be living from now on,” he answered, chuckling sadly. Gerard winced, touching Frank’s shoulder gently. Frank jumped a little, but quickly relaxed. “Oh! …I’m sorry. Didn‘t expect that. I know I smell rank right now.”
“Don’t apologize,” Gerard told him, frowning. “I’m sure whatever it is, it wasn’t your fault, Frank.” He ran a hand through his fading hair, perplexed.
A blind man on the streets? What would he do, beg for change, then trust some stranger to bring him food? It would never work. Ray noticed Gerard
’s distress and helped him up. He started to pull Gerard away.
“See you two later!” Frank chirped with fake happiness, hearing their shoes on the pavement. And something in his tone must have played at Gerard’s heartstrings, because he told Ray to stop and turned back to the blind man.
“Frank…have you been out on the streets long?” Gerard asked.
“Well…let me see,” Frank said, thinking. “Every afternoon the woman from the coffee shop brings me a donut or something…and she’s done it six times. Six days, I guess,” he said. Gerard winced again, feeling so bad for Frank, who seemed like an interesting and genuinely nice guy.
“Well, y’know, you gave us that twenty and you’ve been so cool to us…” he said nervously, scratching his neck. Frank looked up, seeming puzzled. “If you wanted to come back to our place and get cleaned up and stuff, stay for a few nights, that’d be okay with us.” Ray jabbed his friend in the ribs, but Gerard ignored him.
Frank tried several times to find the right words, finally just giving a simple “Yes!” and beaming. Begrudgingly, Ray rolled his eyes, helped him up, and both of them guided Frank down the street.
“Hey, Frank,” Ray said, trying to start conversation. “Is that dog your sight aid or what?” Frank giggled, stooping a little and patting his lap twice. The dog reacted and yipped, jumping up and scrabbling at Frank’s legs. He held out his hands and the dog fit into them perfectly. He brought the dog to his chest, giggling once more. Even though he was happy, his eyes still didn’t light up at all. It was a little eerie but mostly sad.
“Oliver? Nah, not trained by the big shots or anything. He used to help me get around the house. We have little signals for stairs or dead ends. Basic communicative stuff, you know? He’s pretty smart, though, so I’d reckon he’s better than any Seeing Eye Dog bullshit you’ll ever met! Eh, little guy?” Frank explained. Ray and Gerard laughed and agreed with him, as Oliver was pretty adorable.
It turned out that Frank had a lot to say, if you’d only listen. He had an amazing taste in music, although he confessed he loved all music, really, and would listen to whatever you gave him. The one thing he failed to mention was his past. Who had he lived with previously? Oliver couldn’t help him enough for Frank to live on his own. Why had he been thrown out on the street? Frank wasn’t dumb or anything. He was smart, and loved people. Gerard decided not to push Frank, though. Maybe he wasn’t ready to tell his “sob story” anyway.
Gerard and Ray helped their new friend up the stairs and tried their best to familiarize him with his new surroundings.
“Hey Frank?” Gerard said, guiding him to a couch. “You sit here, I’ll get some water running…er, what do you do? Shower, bath?” Gerard really had no idea what to do, as he’d never been around a blind guy before.
“It’s stupid, I know, but I can shower if I have someone outside to help. Like, holding the towel and soap and stuff. I know it’s a pain,” Frank replied, sounding ashamed. Gerard shook his head before realizing Frank couldn’t see him.
“Hey. It’s not stupid, I’ll help you, okay?” As awkward as it felt, Gerard set his resolve to help this guy with anything, however awkward or personal it may be. Frank was like a lost cat or something, needing to be taken in.
Gerard helped Frank to the bathroom, leaving Oliver in the living room, and tried not to look as Frank shed his clothing, despite the fact that Frank would never know. He succeeded in removing his shirt, shoes, and socks, but was struggling with the complications of his belt. He let out a frustrated sigh.
“Uh…” he murmured.
“Say no more, I’ll help,” Gerard said. Gently, he unhooked the belt, sliding it off Frank with ease. His breath was caught in his throat for some reason. It felt too intimate, doing this, but he kept reminding himself he was only helping. He was absentmindedly sliding Frank’s pants down like one would for a toddler when Frank stopped him.
“Gerard….I, uh, I can take it from here,” he stuttered, pushing Gerard’s hands away. Gerard jumped up and backed off, blushing furiously. He hadn’t even meant to do that, he had just been helping and…oh, what a loser he was.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. Frank chuckled, now fully naked.
“It’s fine, could you, uh, open the curtain? To the shower, I mean,” he replied. You could reach out and grab the awkward in the air. Gerard slid the curtain open and helped Frank in, shivering at the warmth of his skin and failing to stop staring at the stranger’s backside. The water was already running. Gerard slid the curtain shut and steeled his nerves a bit, walking the clothes down to the wash. It was no secret that he played both teams, and Frank was very attractive. But he felt it was a jerk move to stare at Frank that way when he wouldn’t even know. Frank wasn’t a stupid kid, but he had to be treated with care and respect. At least, that was what Gerard felt.
“How you doin’ in there, man?” he called when he returned.
“F-fine.” Frank answered. “Could you, um…squirt some shampoo into my hand?” A hand appeared from behind the shower curtain, palm cupped. Gerard pulled the shampoo bottle from the stack of supplies on the counter (he’d pulled them from the shower to administer them to Frank) and squirted a dollop of the stuff into Frank’s open hand.
“What else?” he asked. Frank assured him he was fine at the moment and started to hum as he showered. Gerard recognized the tune immediately. The song he’d been playing this morning, Summertime. He was touched that anyone remembered it.
“Hey Gerard…” Frank mumbled again some time later, still embarrassed. “Can you give me the soap?” Again, a hand appeared.
“Sure thing,” he replied, passing the bar to him. He sat on the counter, swinging his legs, trying to mentally bleach the image of Frank naked from his brain. No success. These awkward exchanges happened a couple more times before Frank quietly declared he was ready to get out and dry off.
“So, you can…just hand me the towel?” Frank said. Gerard snorted.
“The water is still running, it’ll get soaked and be useless,” Gerard replied. “It’s no big deal, Frank, I said I’d help you, remember?” He swept the curtain back without glancing at Frank, turning off the water of the shower and beckoning the poor guy out in the cold air. He shivered, exposed. Gerard draped one of the bigger towels over his lithe frame and he jumped. Gerard hadn’t meant to startle him or anything. Frank grabbed the towel and quickly dried his hair. Gerard stole a few glances. He was petite, but also strangely beautiful.
“Thanks, man,” Frank said, finding his way to the door quickly. Gerard followed close behind unless he fell or something. He felt his way to the couch and sat down, still wrapped in the towel. Oliver immediately jumped into Frank’s lap. Ray had disappeared somewhere, probably glued to the computer. Frank’s clothes were still in the wash. They sat in silence until the doorbell rang. Oliver jumped up and yipped a couple times. Gerard answered, nearly being mowed over as a perky brunette girl forced herself into the house.
“Hiiiiii, Gerard,” she said, giggling. Frank listened intently but didn’t say anything.
“Hey, Sam,” Gerard replied. She giggled again.
“I think you might’ve gotten some of my mail..?” she said, clasping her hands together tightly. Gerard nodded, mumbling something about a magazine and leaving the room. Sitting down by the still damp Frank, she didn’t seem to notice the fact that he was only concealed by a towel.
“H-hi,” Frank mumbled.
“Hi…oh my gosh! He’s so hot,” she gushed.
“Who? Gerard?” Frank asked, confused. She nodded. Of course, Frank didn’t have any idea she had done that, and just sat there, waiting for a response. She frowned, staring at his odd eyes and vacant expression.
“Uh…” she said. “Yeah. Anyway, Gerard didn’t actually accidentally get my mail,” she revealed, not bothering to wait for a response. “I just planted the mail to get an excuse to talk to him. He’s just SOOO cute and I know he’ll like me eventually.”
Frank grunted what he hoped constituted as an agreement, quickly getting bored with this chirpy and floozy girl. At just the right time, Gerard returned with a magazine and two envelopes.
“Here you go, Sam. Sorry about that. Don’t know how that keeps happening..” he muttered, rolling his eyes. She smiled, thanking him.
“Oh, and who’s your creepy friend?” she whispered. Gerard’s eyes widened. Frank obviously heard her, but chose to stay silent. ”Like, is he retarded or something?” She giggled, acting like she was being so subtle.
Gerard looked over at poor Frank. He was a little guy, wrapped in a towel and looking so utterly vulnerable with those big, sad eyes. Anger swelled up in Gerard’s heart. Calling a blind person retarded was terrible, but so was calling anyone retarded, right?
“Are you serious?” he fumed, stepping away from Sam. “Are you actually standing in my house and calling someone that?”
“I…no, but he..”
“Shut up. He’s fucking blind, and it isn’t his fault. Even if he was ‘retarded’ you have no right to call him that. Have some class! And get the fuck out of my house.” Gerard turned and grabbed Frank’s hand. “C’mon Frank, let’s go get your clothes out of the wash.
“Okay,” was all he said in reply. He heard Sam huff as she stomped out the door and he grinned. “Why did you do that anyway?”
Gerard chuckled. “Never let anyone call you stupid, Frankie.”
Hope it doesn't suck!