For the nights of sleepless dreams,
I’ll be here as a pillow, as a blanket.
For the cuts of crimson wrists,
I’ll be here as a hug and warmth.
For the terrors in their eyes,
I’ll be here as a reminder to live.
For the smoke and steam,
I’ll be here as a heavenly trinket.
For the lips that didn’t kiss,
I’ll be here, you’re not only this month.
For the mornings of obvious lies,
I’ll be here, your truth I’ll give.
For the shallowness you’ve endured,
I’ll be here, a stranger with a cure.
For the poetry you can’t write,
I’ll be here and it’ll be alright.
You walked into your last class of the day, thankful that the hell you’ve been through today would be over soon. As if you didn’t feel bad enough, you could hear a group of girls gasp and giggle at you as you made your way to your seat at the back of the class. They could see the cuts on your neck, you couldn’t hide them. You tugged at your shirt sleeves and tried not to cry in your seat.
You thought of the shithead ex that had led you on and dumped you for no reason, how bad he hurt you and made you feel so shitty you slit your arms and neck. After 12 days in a mental ward and another week staying at home, healing, you still felt no better, and even more stressed out, if possible. Your teacher walked in and started class, bringing you to attention of your surroundings.
Your lab partner whom you shared a table with showed up. “Oh, God. I bet he’s heard the gossip. Now there’s no chance in hell he’ll ever talk to me.”, You thought. Gerard was silent and he hadn’t ever said a word to you that wasn’t class required, besides muttering a sorry when he was in your way. You watched him doodle in his notebook instead of taking notes. He seemed like such a talented artist, but you’d never tell him so, considering you were as shy as he was.
As the teacher grew more boring, you found your thoughts drifting, and caught the eye of more than a few people looking your way. “Psychoooo” you saw one mouth to another. You propped your elbows on the table and buried your face in your hands, beginning to cry. A few minutes later, you heard Gerard’s soft voice.
“Y/n? Hey, Mr. Smith wants us to start our worksheet now. Are you okay?” He touched your shoulder softly and you wiped away the tears.
“No, but I’m trying”, you choked out, looking into his eyes. God, they were beautiful, especially compared to what you thought yours probably looked like at this point, red from the crying.
“Hey, listen. You don’t have to do this now. I- If you’re not alright, then… Um, we better fix that first.” A light smile lit his face as you made eye contact for probably the third time all year.
“No, no, Gerard, I really don’t matter, trust me. You don’t have to worry. We can do this, I don’t want either of us failing.” In reality, You were already failing and your cheeks were burning hot.
He shifted his eyes around the class and dropped his voice even lower, “Y/n, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I can tell your head isn’t straight… I’ve seen the look that was on your face a few minutes ago. I’ve seen it in the mirror when I’ve thought of dying. I know what it’s like to not want to be here, trust me… I- I don’t know if it’s something you’d want, but-” he paused here, shifting nervously and swallowing hard, avoiding my gaze- “you could come over to my house or something. I- I know you walk home and I don’t like the idea of you walking alone with all those wackos out there who think you’re crazy, and I’m not sure when your parents get home, but I just really don’t like the idea of leaving you alone.”
His eyes met yours at this last sentence, and a tear ran down your face as you accepted, forcing a smile to please him. You knew what you really wanted to do- jump off the bridge that you passed on your way home onto the rocks and freezing water below- but you knew in the back of your mind that you should really keep going for another day. The two of you (Gerard, mainly) completed the worksheet as the bell rang and school was dismissed.
He met you at your locker. “You ready?”, Gerard grinned at you as you put your coat and beanie on. “I guess.”
The two of you walked out of school to the student parking lot where his friend sat with his car running, looking slightly impatient as the two of you hopped in.
“Sorry Ray, I had to wait for y/n.” He muttered quickly as we settled into the backseat. “It’s alright, I just hope Mikey doesn’t chew you out.” He laughed as he looked to the boy in the passenger seat, who stayed mute and turned a slightly darker shade.
After a few minutes of an only slightly awkward ride, you arrived at Gerard’s house, thanking Ray for the ride as Gerard scampered to the front door and fumbled to unlock it. You strode in after him, dropping your bag next to his and placing your coat on top.
“What do you, um- what do you wanna do?”, he blushed, and deepened as he realized something. “Oh, oh shit I’m supposed to offer you a drink or something first aren’t I?” Mikey coughed as he passed us, going into the kitchen. “Oh yeah, that’s Mikey. He’s my brother. Um, let me get you a soda? I- Is Coke okay?” He asked nervously. You smiled and nodded, taking your shoes off and strolling deeper into the house and admiring the baby photos on the wall.
Gerard found you and laughed awkwardly. “Heh, I guess you’ve found the world’s worst photos.” He blushed and handed you the drink. “No, Gee, not at all. Somehow you’ve managed to get even cuter.” You smiled, genuinely this time as his mouth dropped and his complexion turned bright red. He just shook his head vigorously and stuttered.
“D-Do you, um…”, he looked around desperately, “do you wanna come to my room? I- I really don’t mean anything weird by it it’s just that that’s where, um, it’s where all the movies are and I thought maybe we could watch one.”
You sipped your Coke and gazed at him with your large y/e/c eyes, admiring how cute he was when he was flustered, in awe that you had never noticed it before.
You followed him down to a dingy basement, where he quickly scurried around, picking dirty clothes up off the floor and throwing them into the closet.
“You can just, uh- have a seat on the bed. I’ll put in a movie. I hope horror movies are okay. They’re all I have.” He looked back at you nervously as you nodded and smiled. He popped in Psycho before nervously asking if he could sit next to you.
“Gerard, it’s your house. Don’t let me be in control.” You smiled weakly.
Within half an hour your Cokes were gone and you had your head rested on Gerard’s shoulder, making his muscles rigid at the initial contact.
Without looking away from the TV, you spoke softly. “Gerard, Thank you so so much for this.” Tears leaked from your eyes as you continued, “I’m really just having such a hard time and you have to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met and this is just too much, really.” You looked up to see Gerard shocked, with furrowed brows, looking down at you. “You know, Gerard… I’ve wanted to talk to you for the longest time. I really do love your art. Every time I would look over at you doodling in your notes, and every time I still do it, it just brightens up my day.” You smiled and looked down, suddenly finding yourself being very bashful.
“Well, y/n… You know, I feel the same way. Not about your art, I don’t know what it looks like- but about talking to you. I’ve really always wanted to, I just couldn’t get the nerve to, I mean- you’re so pretty and cute and gorgeous and all… I never thought you’d want to.” He choked out, cheeks deepening every second, you could hear his heart beating faster.
You grinned up at him, feeling the smile in your eyes as you shut them tight and collided your lips against his. You pulled away a few moments later and apologized wholeheartedly, flustered and blushing.
“Wow… I just- that was amazing.” He whispered, and you crashed your lips to his again, this time with Gerard joining in.
“You know, I’ve always really had a tiny crush you.”, you admitted.
I can’t get any good shots or even looks at Slit’s arm blade thing (that big ol thing on his left arm). It is a weapon, I have concurred that, but the only time he used it he was about to slice off Max’s head. So it’s like some…Assassin’s Creed hidden blade shit? He just pulls his lil…weapon thing and out shoots a knife?
Tell me what to do with my hands now that you’ve romanticized the darkness — naively reaching out to the night sky only to have my fingers burnt on stars and arms slit open by the rough edges of the moon.