Sadly, the bookstore I wrote about doesn't exist, but St. Helens is indeed a very real place where they filmed part of Twilight and Halloweentown! And it's just a car ride away from Astoria, it was only right for me to choose this town. 

! Trigger warning for attempted sexual assault! 

— 

"The truth is hiding in your eyes and it's hanging on your tongue, just boiling in my blood. But you think that I can't see what kind of man that you are, if you're a man at all. Oh I will figure this one out on my own."

— 'Decode' by Paramore.

Sitting beside Gerard at their own lunch table they claimed for themselves days prior, Frank fidgeted with the torn off tab of his soda can, twirling it in small circles on the tabletop. He tuned out the sounds of the buzzing crowd around them, focusing on his own breathing, the sensation of coldness with flowers embroidered into it brushing against his side as it steadily emitted from Gerard who simply breathed as well. If he felt eyes resting heavy on him, he'd turn his head and his gaze was caught by Gerard's, a long moment where they held each other's stares until the world began to disintegrate around them so it was only the two of them diving into whatever they offered in silence. 

Each time Frank looked at Gerard, words welled up behind his tongue, but he couldn't find an appropriate way to phrase their utter insanity. Frank was well decided about his theory, finding it was as close to the truth as possible, but how could someone say those accusing words without sounding like they'd lost their mind? If it wasn't the truth, then Frank would be humiliated, most likely never wanting to seek out Gerard again to avoid how utterly mortified he'd feel even standing in his presence. 

Whatever fear Frank felt in the beginning, all of it ebbed away as he was taken from his terrifying imagination and faced with the person he truly believed wouldn't hurt him. After being rescued by his hands so many times, it was impossible not to feel safe near him, despite remaining a tad bit cautious— but that mostly rooted from Frank's fear of him fading away, an ephemeral thing never meant to linger for long. Beautiful things tended to disintegrate whenever they were placed in Frank's hands and he never knew why.

"May I ask you something I remembered the other day?" Gerard's velvet murmur was the furthest thing from an interruption in their long moment of intense quiet. 

Frank nodded instead of responding, knowing the sound of his voice in comparison to Gerard's would grate his ears when they only longed to listen to the melodics of Gerard's syllables piecing together. 

"When I told you what my favorite song was, you said it's very special to you. I never got the chance to ask you why." 

Frank learned not to be surprised over minuscule things when larger matters were present to gauge a deeper reaction from him. If his memory served him correct, he recalled mentioning something about the song being significant to him during the day where they catapulted questions back and forth for the first time— also the beginning of a blooming friendship as they slowly worked past their avoidance and prominent hostility. 

"First Day of My Life by Bright Eyes. Even the title brings me a really nostalgic feeling." Frank reminisced while collecting his memories to set up the story. He sat back in his chair, eyes settled on the table as his mind drifted. "It was the first song I ever really felt. I've always been able to feel things more than the typical person. I see colors in songs and stuff, but this one was different." 

"How so?" 

"It was a barrage of gold and some other shades I'm not even sure exist in reality. Something about it spoke to my heart, it gave me this feeling like it's always been a favorite song of mine tied to the best memories ever,  but I'd never heard it before in my life. It stuck with me since then. Literally all of my playlists have that song somewhere in them, I can't not have it there. I love the rest of the band's music, too." 

Intrigue sparkled in Gerard's eyes simmering in a darker shade of green, nearing their era of inky wells that would eventually fade back into their natural emerald clouded over by warm brown. "When did you first listen to it?" 

The tips of Frank's ears burned hot at the reminder of who introduced him to the music those years ago. He rolled his lips together sheepishly, and although the weight of Gerard's stare was always an intense thing to be aware of, no stewing nerves or fear of rejection came over him as he prepared to reveal a detail about himself he hadn't explicitly shared with him yet. He was surprised to find he was fully comfortable baring a part of his soul to Gerard. 

"I was about 14. This, um, this guy I was friends with, he had a lot of cool band shirts and stuff, so I asked him to make me a playlist full of song recommendations. I just wanted to impress him 'cause . . . he was the first guy I had a crush on." Frank cleared his throat softly as his face positively flamed. "I know how it looks, but the song being added to the playlist didn't mean anything. There were also songs about going out on murder sprees and one or two about wanting to choke out someone you hate, so there's how I knew it wasn't significant." 

Gerard wasn't fazed by Frank's not-so-grand reveal of his sexuality. Perhaps it was obvious in the way Frank tended to lose himself in the depths of Gerard's eyes or how he spoke gently to only him, along with other easter eggs planted throughout their hefty compilation of interactions. There was no shock, no disgust, only something that pulled Gerard deeply into his thoughts as his eyes were pinned to the abandoned soda can tab resting on the table. 

After a moment of digesting the story, Gerard's eyes wandered back, alight with curiosity and softness. "Even if it wasn't exactly dedicated to you, does the song still make you think of him?" 

Frank's fidgety fingers toyed with a frayed tear in his distressed jeans, tugging at the loose threads until one eventually tore free for him to wrap around the tip of his finger. "Sometimes it does. The guy, his name was Damien, he was really into skating and guitar. I guess that's why I liked him so much." 

"You enjoyed those things, too?" The corner of Gerard's mouth curled up. 

Frank returned the hint of a smile. "I kind of gave up on skating 'cause I'm a total klutz, but yeah, I used to like it. Guitar, that's one hobby I never grew out of. We bonded over those things for a while, almost became something more than friends until he moved away."

 Frank took in a quick breath, sweeping his tongue over his lips as his first touch of nerves grazed him to say the next part. "He was my, um. He was my first kiss." 

It felt forbidden, almost, to speak about a thing two pairs of lips did when Gerard was settled right beside him. Frank often controlled his mind and the paths it took so he wouldn't dwell on thoughts that would only cause unfair yearning to build in him, but once the words dripped from the tip of his tongue, the filter disintegrated. 

Gerard's eyes darkened a touch, darting quickly from the table to latch on Frank's eyes flitting over to check if he was watching. With stares entangled, Frank's lips parted the slightest bit, finding an unknown emotion flashing through Gerard's irises. He dug into his aura and sensed the molten heat of longing sending him into a spell of dizziness the second Gerard's eyes flickered down to Frank's lips. Frank's trembling breath couldn't surpass his tongue firmly pressing against the roof of his mouth as his own eyes betrayed him, glancing down at Gerard's perfect lips in turn, his stomach flipping and swooping downward so violently that a wave of heat flashed through his body. 

Frank just couldn't afford imagining a scenario where the world would truly dissolve around them so no pair of eyes would witness him learning forward eagerly to catch Gerard's smooth lower lip between the both of his, discovering if he tasted just as sweet as his saccharine scent intoxicating him each time he inhaled it. Envisioning something so vivid would only cause him to teeter over the edge, a pivotal point forever sewing him into Gerard's side and making any  separation beyond painful as his flesh tore consequentially. One thing he couldn't deny was the comfort and insanity of Gerard's hunger emitting from him, as though he battled the same thing Frank did, choosing reality over fantasy. 

At the same time, their eyes tore away from each other, resting on the tabletop holding nothing other than Frank's beverage abandoned and only half drained. Frank discreetly caught his breath, licking his lips tingling with the phantom sensation of an imaginary kiss that wouldn't happen. If Gerard was dangerous as he painted himself to be, if he was truly a vampire, there wasn't the slightest possibility he'd give into a measly human even if he experienced mutual attraction. Frank was beneath him, intended to be prey. Not Gerard's prey in specific or else Frank would've found himself being drained lifeless somewhere in the deepest woods of Astoria, but he was below a vampire in the food chain definitively. 

"Did you love him?" Gerard abruptly asked, a faint scratch to his honeyed voice, as if it troubled him imagining Frank loving someone. 

Love. Frank never had such a strong reaction to the word before until it fell like silk from Gerard's lips. His hands curled into loose fists at his sides, fingers brushing tingling palms, swallowing against the building dryness in his throat. 

"No, I didn't love him. Actually, I— I don't think I've . . . ever been in love before." Frank's voice grew small and quiet at the end of his confessing statement, startled by the way it felt like a lie despite it being true. "I feel like everyone's been in love except for me. I guess I haven't made an effort to get close to someone in that way." 

Gerard's aura was difficult to read because whatever he felt was specific enough for it to prevent Frank from tapping into it. His creased brows smoothed over and lifted a fraction. "I'm surprised to hear that. You seem like someone who's been in love more than once." 

Frank made a confused sound. "What makes you say that?" 

"People have a . . . poetic feeling to them after they've fallen in love. Every experience with love is a poem in itself. A beginning, a few beautiful verses, and a bittersweet conclusion." 

Frank's chest tightened. "Do I feel poetic to you?" 

Gerard's eyes slowly wandered all over Frank's face. "Marvelously so."

Frank's heart nearly beat out of his chest and landed in Gerard's palms. He felt all tension drain away from his body as he practically melted into his seat. He struggled to keep upright, not giving into the urge to lean his head down on the table and take a few deep breaths. 

"Then . . . going by that logic, you must've been in love thousands of times." Frank chuckled awfully breathlessly.

Gerard's smile was rueful. "You and I have another similarity. I've never been in love before. In fact, there was a time where love was completely out of the question for me. I had no interest in it and turned away from any possibilities." 

Stunned, Frank's eyes widened. "Did something happen that made you feel that way?" 

Gerard's face filled with sadness in which the source was a mystery to Frank. "I believed I wasn't made for love." 

"Everyone's made for love, Gerard. Love exists in everything. And you know what they say; there's someone for everyone."

As Gerard gazed at him silently for a while, he caught himself wondering if he could ever be Gerard's someone.

Deep down, Frank knew he should be afraid, so he must've been either completely broken or supernatural tales were only fabricated to preserve a secret, one he may become a part of if his theory was right on the nose. Only time would tell.

— 

A few days before the winter dance, Frank's friends invited him out to join them as they searched for their outfits down in St. Helens where they'd eventually grab dinner, insisting on giving a tourist themed visit since Frank hadn't seen the town yet and there were a few historic traits about the homely place. They claimed he should've arrived near Halloween when the town was decked out in lavish holiday ornaments, hosting celebratory events holding the purest autumnal  feeling that were a shame to miss out on. Frank admitted he felt he was indeed missing out on something, but he supposed if he was meant to stay, he could make a trip the following year for his birthday to engage in holiday activities— Halloween was his favorite after all, his birthday aside.

Frank didn't intend to stick by their sides the entire time, however. He profoundly wanted to visit an antique bookstore based on fantasy. Within the shelves, he'd find books with information and theories about mythical creatures— including vampires, where his heart was currently set. He jotted down the location in a note on his phone to go off of later, sensing a conclusion loomed in the distance awaiting him. 

Walking along the damp streets scattered in dried leaves with hot cocoa in a paper cup clasped in his hand, Frank walked beside his friends along the bustling sidewalk among the multiple shops inviting visitors and townsfolk already familiar with the sights St. Helens had to offer. The warm glow of the string lights bordering the display glass of a store he strolled past gleamed on the slick pavement and drew his eyes to the comfort they exuded. Something about warm lighting always encompassed him and made him feel safe, fuzzy on the inside. 

"Hey, Frank," Ray looked over his shoulders with his brows raised, "Are you absolutely sure you don't wanna go to the dance? It's gonna be a really fun time, some friends from Warrenton are crashing it." 

"I have plans, you guys." Frank insisted, "I can't really drop them. Otherwise I'd totally go." It was a bit of a stretch, but he needed to make his nonexistent excuse believable or else he'd risk making his friends think he intended on avoiding them or he didn't enjoy spending time with them as he claimed to. 

"It's why he's ditching us for some bookstore," Adam feigned offense. "Books are more important than his beloved friends." 

Frank cracked a grin. "I just have some things I wanna pick up. It's a specific type of bookstore, we don't have one of those in our town." 

"What's with the sudden interest in fantasy stuff? Unless you've always been into that?" 

"Um, sort of," Frank cast his eyes downward, "I just like movie monsters and all that cool stuff. I thought it'd be interesting to read more about them." 

"That's cool. Well, as long as you don't convince yourself they're real." Frances shocked Frank by chipping in with a faint smile, her elbow sticking out to gently knock into the side of Frank's arm. A surprised laugh flowed from him, but didn't make a comment on her acknowledgment incase she regressed back to her normal agenda; ignoring him as much as humanly possible. 

"And as long as you don't show up to school with fangs and a weird obsession with vampires," Ray snickered, "No kidding, we had a kid just like that in middle school. He hissed at people." 

Frank stiffened initially at the mention of vampires, hitting a particular nerve in him that hadn't been there before, but he quickly dusted off the iciness webbing through him before his reaction was noticeable. He forced out a laugh, commenting on how odd the kid must've been, and didn't provide much more input as Ray and Adam got into their memory about the strange kids that weren't shy with their peculiar interests. 

After a moment, Frances fell back to match her stride with Frank, rolling her lips together as she looked at him for a moment full of hesitation. Frank's eyes widened a fraction with surprise and expectancy as he sensed the off placement of her aura. 

"Hey," Frances lowered her voice so their conversation was private, "So, I don't know if you've noticed I've been avoiding you." 

Frank struggled not to snort. Not even the most oblivious man on the planet wouldn't be able to tell the way Frances steered clear of Frank like he had some form of the plague. Despite this, Frank nodded his head, wincing a bit. 

"Yeah, I've kinda noticed." 

Guilt colored Frances's face. "I don't want you to think I hate your guts now or something. It's not like that and that's me being totally honest. I just, I needed a little time. I've never been able to handle rejection very well." 

Frank sympathized with her and a curl of guilt swept through him the way it channeled through Frances. His tendency to be ultra empathetic didn't come to his advantage as he was suddenly tempted to make it up to his friend, but he needed to remind himself it wasn't a sin to not return someone's affections. As Kayleigh wisely noted, it wasn't possible to force a feeling. 

"I'm sorry, Frances. I hate hurting people. Especially my friends, but I'm not the type of person who'll string you along just to protect your feelings." 

"And I'm glad you didn't! Seriously, things would've played out way worse if you had." Frances grimaced imagining it. "If I seemed mad, I kinda was, but I got over myself. It's not your fault if you don't . . . feel the same way." The apples of her cheeks flamed red and she averted her eyes, the most vulnerable Frank had ever seen her. 

"There's tons of guys who would kill to have you see them the way you see me." Frank chuckled softly. 

"I know there's lots of fish in the sea, but not all of them are like you, Frank." Frances smiled wistfully, her eyes gentling for a moment causing Frank's heart to break out in miniature fissures for her, but she quickly cleared the look away. "Sorry. I promise I'm trying to move on. I just wanted to let you know we're cool now." 

At least it was a small burden lifted off Frank's chest. As they exchanged a genuine smile, they joined in on the conversation Adam and Ray engaged in, swinging back into things as though nothing had ever shifted out of place to begin with. 

After helping out his friends in choosing their outfits, on the way to the shop where Frances insisted dragging everyone into to pick out a pair of heels since Kayleigh wasn't available to help that weekend, Frank took off to the bookstore a few blocks down after they agreed to meet up at an Italian restaurant between both destinations. He regarded the distance and found it was easy to stroll along the streets as the glow of sunset breaking faintly through the clouds kissed the town in pale orange clouded over by a muted grayish blue. 

The store smelled of herbs and scented candles holding onto their dancing flames as they were set up on the tables in the display window beside stacks of sealed books and other antique items such as tea sets and donated dolls. Frank caught a whiff of sandalwood and lavender as he passed the threshold of the entrance, a musical trill sounding at the door to announce his arrival. Frank shifted his coat to soak in the warm atmosphere, eyes traveling along the occupied shelves framed in strings of warm lights and Christmas decor. Frank was stunned by their appearance, forgetting the way the next most important holiday was very imminent now that Thanksgiving had passed. His lips curved into a subtle smile at the rosy cheeks of a porcelain Santa figurine delicately placed among the shelves full of literature telling of classic Christmas tales among others he hadn't had the pleasure of reading about.

"Good evening," The shop owner, an elderly woman wrapped in a pale knitted cardigan greeted him. "Can I help you with anything?" 

Frank hesitated, contemplating kindly brushing off the offer, but he took into consideration he didn't know the ropes of the shop. His cheeks filled with vivid color as he took a breath and replied with, "Hello, yes. I, um, I came here 'cause I was wondering if you had any books on vampire lore."

As he presumed, the shop had a plentiful amount of books on vampires for Frank to leaf through, so many he had difficulty picking out a select few to gain more knowledge with. He reminded himself to be a bit picky; he needed those that weren't based strictly on fantasy, he needed history and legends, as close to reality as he could possibly get. The owner was kind and open-minded, sensing Frank's sheepishness and reassuring him she'd faced hardcore believers obsessed with supernatural culture, rambling about the dangers of creatures walking among them, hoping to walk in stride with them someday. Frank was thankful he hadn't reached that level, nor did he think he would, but he was close enough to seeming insane if he let on more than he was willing to. No one needed to know the purpose behind his research was because of real speculations and elaborate theories always missing key shards. 

Satisfied with his small collection in the end, Frank gratefully thanked the owner and made his payment, bidding her goodbye as he walked out into the frigid winter night where the silver of the moon couldn't part the clouds, so the only source of light was the glow of the shops in the distance and the orange streetlights. He zipped up his jacket all the way and looped the handle of the bag around his wrist to shove his chilled hands in his pockets, trotting down the steps and heading down the sidewalk. 

Frank was convinced he needed to take a right after a specific building the shop was behind. Things were a bit murky in the darkness, he'd reached a further part of the town square where the liveliness diminished and there was only quiet among the buildings bathed in darkness. Frank lost signal on his phone in a dead zone trying to reach out to one of his friends after his memory failed him. He sighed deeply, pausing for a moment and looking around, then deciding to go with a right turn as originally planned. 

The further he walked down the block, he twisted around a few more times trying to navigate his way back before reaching a point where every tall building was a thing of complete mystery to him. Frustration built the more he attempted to correct his movements, submerging deeper into unknown parts of the town, until Frank realized he was only getting himself lost in a place he'd never been in before. It wasn't as though he could stop a pedestrian and ask for directions; there was no one dumb enough to waltz through pure darkness at night, no one but Frank. 

"Of fucking course I'm the one who gets lost." Frank muttered to himself, trying to get his phone to gain signal again, but it was useless. He heaved a sigh, pocketing his device and following the sidewalk to make a sharp left in the opposite direction from the one he went in before. 

Frank skidded to a halt as he found a seedy gang of guys loitering near a vacant building. Their motorcycles were propped against the brick wall, beers in their hands and cigarettes hanging from their lips, hoods drawn in the night as they quietly lurked as though they waited for something. Frank normally turned away from groups of tipsy men in public, minding his own business, but his sensitivity to things other people couldn't sense caused him to pick up on a terrible feeling of foreboding suddenly encompassing him the second those men entered his line of vision. With a hitching breath, Frank paused solid, and went to make his silent escape. 

Life wasn't so simple or fortunate for Frank Iero. Sour luck tended to lurk in the corners of the unknown and creep up on Frank to strike mercilessly. Frank was still reeling from a few blows, including a faint one where he was caught up in a foreign town not knowing where to step next, but Frank couldn't believe fate was so bitter with him that it distorted brutally to make the men Frank aimed to avoid immediately catch sight of him. They bristled, exchanging looks with each other and nodding in his direction. 

Frank held his breath and backed away, heading around the corner again and picking up his pace. He couldn't shake the wave of terror spreading in him. Frank recalled moments where he was out in parties or hanging out around town with his friends, in those short minutes he was on his lonesome, the cat calls and leering eyes took in his young face and frame. Frank detested knowing the sickening things people were capable of and how he wasn't exempt to any of it; he was young, slender, some mentioned he had a pretty face even if he had a hard time believing it. All of it was to his disadvantage in certain settings because although the twisted ones weren't  picky, some had preferences.

Frank whisked himself away, thinking he'd successfully escaped when he didn't hear any footsteps stomping behind him. That was until the moment he slowed to a normal pace and dared to look over his shoulder. 

He was being followed. 

Frank's heart stammered, banging up into his throat suddenly tightening. He didn't have any means of self defense except for his fists, and even those didn't pack nearly enough of a punch to defend himself against burly older men clad in leather. If he kicked out, he could land some damaging blows, but if only one went down, there was still the power of three. Frank wasn't an expert at martial arts or anything of the sort, the only time he fought was during meaningless arguments with young boys just as feeble as he was. 

Making it his goal to get away, Frank retraced his steps at a pace that was nearly a jog, not daring to look back again. His breath began to shudder and appear in misty clouds before his mouth in the cold weather. He thought he had a chance of outrunning them the further he traveled if he suddenly broke out into a sprint, until two of the burly men from before turned around the corner in front of him. Frank suddenly froze. They'd split up to corner him. 

That feeling of doom encased him in ice as it exuded heavily from the men slowly surrounding him. Without needing the words or the actions to yet reach him, Frank sensed their intentions, a roiling feeling storming in his stomach as pure terror filled him to the brim. He couldn't grip his stomach and show his fear; he clenched his jaw tightly and kept his eyes to the ground. 

"Why the fuck are you following me?" Frank spat. 

A boisterous laugh spilled from all men closing in on him. "Why are you running from us?" 

"I'm just trying to get back to my friends. They're expecting me." Frank thought to put in that piece of information in a pathetic attempt to make any sort of a difference. 

"Friends? Oh, we can be your friends, too, peach." One of the guys purred, suddenly too close behind Frank, making him tense up everywhere as fear sprinted through his pounding heart. 

"We just wanna have a real good time with you." 

Frank's eyes were huge, nausea rolling over him in an instant at the implications behind the guy's words. His hands curled and uncurled tight at his sides, sweat tingles breaking out over his body teetering over into panic mode. The second he felt clammy fingers at the back of his neck, Frank whipped around, his fist flying and connecting with the side of the man's jaw. A burst of pain spread through his hand once it collided with the sturdy bone, but Frank couldn't fully process how deep the ache settled. 

Stunned, the man cried out and backed up a step, stumbling into his friend just as flabbergasted by Frank fighting back. From behind, someone grabbed at him, but Frank struggled against it with all his might and spun around to knee him directly between the legs, making him keel over with a loud shout of pain. 

A splitting cry of tires squealing against the road suddenly broke out over the gruff noises of the men encircling Frank. Frank looked up, eyes flown open wide to see a pair of headlights barreling towards them. Everyone jumped back, including Frank, causing him to nearly stumble and fall flat on his ass. The familiar silver car skidded to a halt and the passenger seat flew open only a few feet away from where Frank stood. 

"Get in the car." Gerard's voice growled from the inside of the snarling vehicle threatening to flatten anyone who dared to make a single move in Frank's direction. The sound of his voice had never been so angelic as it was then. 

Frank threw himself into the passenger seat, hardly getting a chance to shut the door before Gerard savagely surged forward towards the horrified men swearing they were done for, but Gerard swerved suddenly, sparing their lives most likely for his own good instead of theirs. Frank gripped  onto the leather seats so tightly that his nails nearly split through the material, trying not to rattle around too much as Gerard's reckless driving fueled by fury didn't work in his favor since he hadn't snapped his seatbelt in place. 

They swerved back onto the road, zipping past everything in a blur moving much too fast for a small town, but Frank couldn't find his voice to offer a warning. He was rigid and pinned down on the seat, his breathing coming in quick little bursts echoing through his brain. 

"Those disgusting fucking bastards," Gerard snarled with so much venom in his tone that it was alarming, "They're lucky I didn't smear them across the road. They deserve it." 

Frank shut his eyes tight, trying to capture his breath. "Don't say stuff like that. You would be giving your entire life away to prison if you did that." 

"I don't care." Gerard sharply swerved to the right. "Do you have any idea how many others there have been who didn't have someone to save them? Any idea what type of revolting things they've done to innocent people just like you?" 

"No," Frank whispered, "But you sure seem like you do." 

Gerard was silent for a moment. Frank opened his eyes slowly, finding the pale and tight curve of Gerard's clenched jaw in the shadows of the car and his fingers curved so tightly around the steering wheel it was a miracle it hadn't shattered under his grip. 

"It's not hard to guess, Frank. Judging by how pale you are, you know exactly what they would've done to you." Gerard's eyes were obsidian as they turned to Frank, endless and full of hatred so severe that it made Frank flinch back. He was all frost and bitter glaciers, the very epitome of frostbite sinking under Frank's skin when their eyes met. 

At his reaction, Gerard softened with regret, composing his expression with plenty of self control. He turned away and pulled onto the curb beside a string of shops Frank struggled to return to in the first place. Yanking the car into park, Gerard leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel for a moment and taking a few deep breaths. Frank listened to the pounding of his own heartbeat, swallowing thickly and trying his hardest not to think of all the possible things that could've happened that night unlike Gerard who thought too deeply about it all. 

"I'm sorry, Frank," Gerard breathed, "I just . . . seeing them herding you like that. Smirking and planning out what they wanted to do once they had you. I want to go back and tear their heads off." 

Frank winced, preventing his mind from treading down a bleak path again. "Well . . . you'll be happy to hear I punched one and kneed the other in the balls." 

A hard chuckle passed through Gerard. After another moment, he raised his head, sighing deeply. He looked over to Frank with surprisingly tender eyes and a worried crease between his perfect brows. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" 

"I didn't give them a chance." Frank gulped, bringing his fingers to his neck. "One of them sort of touched me. I— I can still kind of feel it." Disgust curled deep in him to register the phantom sensation of clammy fingers at the back of his neck. 

Gerard flexed his hard jaw and glared out the windshield. "I wish I could've been the one to hurt whoever touched you." 

Frank curled up in the passenger seat, assessing his hand. The redness and slight swelling of his knuckles were evidence he'd wait to fade along with the memory he'd rather forget altogether. As his heart and breath slowed, he focused on the pleasant scent in Gerard's car, the gust of warm air streaming from the heater vents, the quietness of Gerard's ragged breathing beside him. He was safe. Frank clenched his eyes shut and reveled in it to gain a sense of levelheadedness. 

"Thank you." Frank whispered. When he didn't receive a response,  he flashed his eyes open again and found Gerard's gazing at him softly, a mixture of relief and pain residing in them. Frank wished to reach out and caress the side of his face, reassure him that all was okay and he was grateful, but he couldn't shake the feeling of fear and adrenaline lingering in his blood. Frank grazed death far too often lately. Was it a sign of fate or just an average day in the life of Frank Iero? He was starting suspect it was the latter option. 

As the silence crept up on them, Frank looked down at himself, surprised he managed to hold onto his bag from the shop. It drew back further back into the present and it began dawning on him just how odd this situation was. 

"Wait. How did you— How did you know where I was?" Frank's eyebrows knitted together. "Did you follow me out here?" 

Gerard cringed faintly. "Not necessarily. I was in the area. I saw you and went to drive over and say hello, then those motherfuckers came along." 

Unconvinced, Frank shook his head. "There's no way you were coincidentally in the exact same area as I was. There were no cars or people aside from— from those guys." 

Gerard went to back up his argument, but by the beseeching look in Frank's eyes and the stern furrow of his brow, he caught himself, snapping his mouth shut tightly. Gerard leaned back into the driver's seat with his head tipped all the way back to collect his thoughts and Frank tried to ignore how smooth the pale column of his neck looked illuminated by street lamps. 

Suddenly, Gerard lifted his head, unbuckling his seatbelt and shutting down the car engine. Befuddled, Frank looked to his questioningly. 

"I have plenty of things to explain, but I'd rather do it over dinner, if that's okay with you." The softness of Gerard's smile was betrayed by the remnants of fury blazing in his dark eyes. "Remember our raincheck?"

Frank's mind suddenly darted back to his friends who he had dinner plans with. Jerking in his seat, his wide eyes flew over to the window to drink in his setting he'd been oblivious to only to be dumbfounded to see they were parked in front of the exact restaurant they agreed to meet in. 

"How the hell . . ." Frank started, then the question died off on his lips, shock immediately dissipating as he began to learn to expect the unexpected while in Gerard's presence. He shook his head, his cheeks puffing out as he released a gust of air. 

"I'd take you home to recover from the fright you experienced, but I'd rather return you to your house knowing you're fed and hydrated." 

"I'm not really in the eating mood." Frank mumbled, aware of the emptiness in his stomach yet feeling slightly revolted by the thought of consuming anything. 

"Please, Frank," Gerard whispered gently, "You'll feel better once you have something to drink." 

"I'm fine as long as you're here," Frank admitted too quickly, flustering himself, so he begrudgingly added, "But okay, I'll just have to find some way to explain this to my friends." 

"No worries. I've got it." Gerard swiftly exited the car with the keys dangling from his pale fingers. Frank suddenly remembered his bag containing embarrassing contents he couldn't allow Gerard to see and shoved it into the back seat. When he twisted around again to open the door, he found it being pulled open by Gerard who patiently stood there, warmth entering his eyes at the surprised look blanking over Frank's face.

Frank mumbled his thanks as he stepped out onto the slick pavement, careful not to slip or step into a freezing puddle. Gerard guided him, close to his side, his hand ghosting along the small of Frank's back so he was left to cope with the desire that Gerard would just rest his hand there to anchor him. They entered the restaurant without another word exchanged and stumbled into Frank's group of friends who seemed a bit perturbed, most likely by Frank's absence. 

"Frank? Dude, where have you been? We were waiting up for you, but Frances hadn't eaten all day and she was getting a headache, so we just sat down." Adam's eyes were large, but their size became uncanny as he drank in Gerard protectively standing at Frank's side, mirroring the astonished expressions Frances and Ray donned. 

"I'm really sorry. My phone lost signal when I tried calling you guys, then I sort of got lost trying to find my way back." Frank fell short then, a spark of hot panic spearing through him until Gerard swooped in to take care of the rest. 

"I was doing some holiday shopping in the area when I ran into Frank wandering around. My apologies for worrying you, we got a little caught up in conversation. I thought I'd bring him here to get him something to eat." Gerard animately explained his portion of the story, a slightly crooked smile sparkling even in his onyx eyes lovely enough to enrapture anyone gazing into them. He expectantly watched the stunned group of friends at a loss for words with a beam situated on his face. 

Frank fleetingly met Adam's eyes and flushed deeply as he realized he was definitely under the impression Frank was being taken out on a date. It wasn't completely ridiculous for him to draw that conclusion, the restaurant was a warm place with private booths and tables draped in white cloths, low lighting hovering above the heads of couples engrossed in their conversation. Frank didn't think this was a date— if it was, he'd imagine Gerard would tell him, not that he believed Gerard would allow them to move beyond what they had now. 

"Uh— no, that's cool," Ray cut in, stammering. "I'm glad Frank's alright. Frank, I guess Gerard's taking you home?" 

"Yeah," Frank nodded jerkily, "You guys can go on without me. Again, I'm really sorry, I'll make it up to you guys next time." 

"No worries, it wasn't your fault. Um, well, have a good time. See you at school." Ray meant it to be directed to both of them, but his large eyes hardly left Frank. Frank didn't dare glance at Frances in case she suspected something was amidst, especially after they barely resolved their subtle conflict that day. 

When Frank's friends waved goodbye and exited the building, Gerard was left with Frank in the waiting area until a waitress came over to lead them to a seating area. Gerard requested one of the private booths on the further end of the place. Frank knew it was for privacy reasons since Gerard claimed to offer long overdue explanations, but his heart still leapt into his throat, beating erratically. 

The waitress was flirtatious as she took their drink order, but her interests obviously laid exclusively in Gerard. Gerard's gaze remained on Frank, unfaltering and intense even as he was spoken to so coyly that Frank was horrendously irked by it. Frank wasn't the jealous type, but something about the heavy irritation causing him to drift an inch closer to Gerard made it clear that it was a potential trait the right person needed to activate. Frank convinced himself to chill out once the disappointed waitress waltzed away to retrieve their drinks. 

"God, it's suffocatingly warm in here." Frank mumbled mostly to himself. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the bench, sighing in relief and smoothing out his long sleeves that wrinkled under his now discarded outer layer. 

"I adore that color on you." Gerard observed the olive green of the v-neck Frank randomly plucked from his closet that morning. "It's so similar to the color of your eyes." 

Blood rushed to fill Frank's cheeks. He dropped his gaze onto the menu in front of him, fighting a sheepish smile. Instead of thanking him like a normal person, he leaned his flushed cheek into his hand, burying his face into the menu he pretended to be invested in. Gerard's soft chuckle wasn't lost to him, nor was the gentleness in his eyes, leaving Frank's heart racing. 

"So you can flirt with me but you can't flirt with that poor waitress trying her hardest to get your attention?" Frank arched an eyebrow and didn't dare lift his gaze once he challenged his own self by addressing Gerard's comments. 

"Oh, of course not. I'm hardly one to try to please people unless the matter at hand is significant to me." 

"Even if you didn't flirt back, she's probably freaking out to her co-workers anyway."

"Why?" 

Disbelieving, Frank looked up, his eyebrows raised high. "Gerard, seriously, you can't be that oblivious." 

Honestly puzzled, Gerard's brows furrowed. Frank released a short laugh and set his menu down, leaning an inch closer. 

"You know the effect you have on people," Frank struggled to move forward of the rest of his argument, "I mean, you just— dazzle them. Without even meaning to. You can probably get anything you want with that superpower." 

"Dazzle," Gerard cocked his head to the side a bit, studying Frank's face as the lines of his mouth softened, "Do I have this effect on you?" 

His breath hitching, Frank averted his eyes, shuffling nervously. "Uh. Yeah. But— but I'm sure you confuse even the straightest men on the planet, so." God, why did he have to say that?

Gerard's unadulterated laugh was a rare occurrence spilling out, an almost goofy sound eliciting the most purest form of joy from Frank whenever he was gifted with it. Frank internally melted, not minding his liquified insides and bones as he easily smiled back at the gleeful look on Gerard's face appearing so much younger when he brought down all of his walls. 

The young waitress returned with the drinks and, if Frank wasn't unbelievably mistaken, a fresh coat of lipgloss that hadn't been applied earlier. Gerard's attention continued to stay in place, not lingering on the hopeful waitress for even a second, drawing Frank into his orbit. He floundered when he went to order a dish, picking whatever his eyes first landed on. Of course, Gerard wouldn't be dining; he never took a bite of anything. 

"Are you on a super strict diet or something?" Frank asked quietly once the waitress defeatedly walked away. 

Gerard's eyes sparkled, the corner of his mouth twitching. "You could say that." 

Frank huffed. He peeled the paper from his plastic straw and took a gulp of his drink, draining half the glass as his thirst caught up to him. He set it aside before it could strip him of his resolve with the power of its distraction. 

"Why did you follow me out here, Gerard?" Frank didn't leave room for Gerard to protest.

Defeatedly, Gerard sighed, tracing the tip of his finger along the rim of his cup he had no intentions of drinking from. A moment of contemplation passed before an ashamed curl of his lips took over his pensive expression. 

"I don't make a habit out of following people around, Frank. I don't stalk you either, I swear it isn't what it seems. It was just this one time, a gut feeling . . ." Gerard's eyes rose and met Frank's to bore into them. "I have the strangest urge to protect you." 

Frank ignored the somersault his heart did in his chest and narrowed his eyes. "I'm not a damsel in distress."

Gerard snorted. "Far from it. But you must admit danger tends to fall into step with you."

Frank's mouth popped open to protest, but he fell silent instantly. It was a thought that frequented his own mind and he couldn't argue no matter how stubborn he was. He clamped his mouth shut, giving a terse nod and thinking of another thing to mention now that he had the perfect opportunity to receive answers. 

"I just find it incredibly strange that you somehow knew exactly where I was, you swooped in seconds before I was mauled, and you knew where my friends were waiting for me." Frank reached into the bread basket perched between them and bit off the end of a breadstick, chewing slowly. 

Gerard's face hardened. "You aren't foolish enough to believe they were mere coincidences." 

Frank nodded, glad Gerard had finally learned. He searched Gerard's eyes as he wondered how everything came to Gerard's knowledge and a single conclusion landed in his palms. He swallowed his bite of bread and offered it. 

"You can read minds?" It came out as a question because Frank couldn't connect certain elements to the theory. As he breathed the words out loud, color drained from his skin facing the possibility that Gerard tapped into the frequency of his thoughts to read into every single one of them whenever he pleased, meaning he undoubtedly discovered some unflattering and mortifying pieces Frank wouldn't dare bring to the light as long as he had a choice. 

Gerard's eyes glistened and widened a bit, but his verbal reaction was cut short by the waitress returning with Frank's food, wordlessly setting down the plate and running off again to tend to other guests. Frank swallowed thickly as he assumed the look in Gerard's eyes was enough of a confirmation. 

"What if I could?" Gerard asked softly, leaning forward. "What would you say to that?" 

"Hypothetically?" 

Gerard chuckled shortly. "Yes, hypothetically." 

Frank unraveled his silverware without his gaze wavering, nerves tangled up under his skin suddenly flushing anew. "Then . . . hypothetically speaking, I'd politely ask you to get the hell out of my head." 

Gerard's unbridled laughter shined through again. He slowly shook his head, a look of wonder passing over him. "Frank, you'd know if I was able to read your thoughts. In fact, it's rather frustrating that it's impossible to break through whatever barrier you have surrounding your mind." 

Shock ricocheted through Frank and his reaching hand froze above his fork. He was surprised his theory was correct, but above it all, he couldn't process a new discovery he found difficult to believe. "You can't read my mind?" 

"Yours is the only one I can't read. There's complete silence each time I attempt to hear something, anything. I wondered at first if you did it on purpose, more so when you confessed you have a particular sense not every person has, but there was no way you could know about my . . .  strange ability." Gerard folded his hands atop of the table. 

"I'm pretty sure I'm not doing it on purpose," Frank looked over himself, suddenly a little distraught. "Oh, god, does that mean I'm like— broken or something?" 

"God, no, not at all."

"Then what's my deal?" 

Gerard's tender eyes traced over Frank's face like an invisible caress bringing a delighted shiver to Frank's body. "You're wonderfully unique. I've gotten frustrated so many times before I allowed myself to give up and learn about a person the natural way." 

Frank's erratic heartbeat thrummed through each of his veins. A smile cracked through and he subtly shook his head. "It's good to be humbled sometimes. Now you know what it's like for the rest of us." 

"You have an advantage here, too." Gerard propped an elbow on the table to rest his cheek against his curled fist, a lock of inky hair falling into his smoldering eyes. "I suppose you're comforted knowing you've gotten under my skin the way I've gotten under yours." 

"Comforted is an understatement," Frank gathered a bit of pasta on his fork to take a bite, waiting to swallow to continue on. "So, what you're saying is I pissed you off so bad because my mind is a code that can't be cracked?"

Gerard winced. "It's more complicated than that, Frank." 

Frank's teeth clicked together. "You told me you owe me explanations." 

"It's a whole other realm of things we shouldn't get into." 

"Gerard—"

"Not here, I meant." A promise hung heavy on the whisper dripping past Gerard's lips, stunning Frank into silence until a crackle of anticipation sprung up in him. Frank nodded in silent agreement, shoveling a few more mouthfuls of pasta as quiet engulfed them for another moment. 

"Meanwhile, I should brace myself for the running and screaming I've been dreading." Gerard's chuckle was laced in self pity, bringing Frank's eyes back to him instantly. 

"You just saved my life again." Frank's eyes darted around in case anyone nosy passed by and he leaned forward, locking eyes with Gerard. "Honestly, with all the theories I've created and prepared for, nothing's gonna scare me off. It doesn't matter to me" 

Gerard looked as though he meant to say otherwise, but he couldn't bring himself to. Gazing into the pits of self hatred he had towards himself was a gut wrenching thing to experience even as it came as a secondhand sensation. Frank swallowed hard, his chest giving a heavy empathetic clench. To see the face of an angel become so forlorn was nothing short of devastating, but it was furthermore terrible when it was Gerard who believed he harbored nothing pure or redeemable. 

Frank's fingers trembled as his hand slid across the tabletop, seeking, and found Gerard's freezing hand folded there. Gerard took in a tiny gasp at the skin on skin contact at the same time Frank did, a powerful strike of electricity zipping up his arm and settling warmly in the pit of his stomach. Releasing a shaky breath, Frank dared to coax Gerard's hand out of its loosely curled position. He assented, flipping over so his palm faced upward, allowing Frank's fingertips to graze over the grooves and intricate lines webbing over his soft skin. 

"When will you realize I care about you and nothing could take me away from you?" Frank's vulnerability was influenced by the heat growing in his belly, reaching into his chest cavity when their gazes touched. 

"It scares me sometimes," Gerard rasped, "How I seem to have run out of strength to keep my distance. Even when we're apart, I think of you." 

Frank's heart kicked violently at his ribcage as though it attempted to break free from an ivory prison to crawl its way into Gerard's chest to take pleasure in the warmth his words and presence gave him. Frank wasn't used to asking for things, so he never did, choosing to find contentment in the things he earned himself even if fragments were missing that prevented him from being truly happy; seldom was he ever given things he wouldn't dare ask for or even crave so dearly, one of those things being comfort, simply because the other person wordlessly knew Frank needed it. Gerard selflessly offered Frank the protection and comfort he sought out all his life without expecting any work for it. 

A strong urge he felt before overcame him; the urge to lean across the table and caress Gerard's angelic face, drawing their lips together to taste the sweetness of his words, but Frank did everything he could to kick it down because it didn't make sense for Gerard to feel the same way even as he gazed at him with undisclosed yearning. Frank's mind made quick denial of any reciprocation because he was plainly human, the only interesting thing about himself currently was the strange silence of his mind. Gerard could gaze at Frank's mouth and wonder if he tasted sweet as well, but there was no way his heart heated and yearned the way Frank's did, pining after impossible things. 

Gerard deserved beauty and grace and adventure. Frank was none of those things and adventure definitely wasn't his strong suit. Yet, as Gerard linked their fingers together, Frank felt like he was all of the above and so much more. He allowed himself to drown in the feeling so the leftover chills and pinpricks of fear from the incident before would gradually wash away like rain over a chalk canvas. 

—— 

This is when things start getting super close to the book! The next chapter is when we finally get our answers and a few other things I know you guys reading this have been waiting for. I'm super excited to show you!

I hope you liked this chapter, let me know what you think about it please! If you ever have questions or comments about the book or even the writing process, go ahead and let me know, I'd love to answer. 

Also- I've been waiting this whole damn time to add in the quote from Decode, aka the Twilight song, this was the perfect chapter for it. 

-rosexo