Gerard P.O.V

It was completely useless attempting to talk to him when he was like that. He wasn't thinking straight, and I knew as soon as the morning came he'd be feeling sorry for himself- he'd be bound to tell me exactly what was on his mind then. I dragged him away from the direction of another bar, bundling him into the back of my car. He didn't protest, instead he sat obediently in the passenger seat.

"How'd you find me?" He slurred, turning to face me.

"I saw you leave your house, and as I've learnt from last time, I knew that you'd end up wandering the streets. Very drunk- I might add." I said, feeling slightly bitter. I hated that he needed drugs and cheap beer to make him feel better. I was more than willing to make him happy; I wanted to save him.
He chuckled, leaning against the window. I watched him, his eyes flitting from the trees to the houses as we exited the main town.
We lived in the quieter, sleepier part of town- and I wanted to keep it that way.

I hauled him out of the car, linking his arm as we headed towards my house. He was ashamed of himself, as he was staring at the ground- the way he always did. He didn't ask me to take him home; it was like he wanted me to lead him into my path.
Mikey wasn't awake, he had passed out on the sofa. I covered him with a blanket, leading Frank upstairs. No, I wasn't going to take advantage of him- I was tired myself and figured that I could keep an eye on him whilst he slept. He curled up on my bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

I left him alone for a while, heading to the bathroom. I stared into the mirror- hating myself. Sometimes I wished that Elena never found me, just Mikey. I could never really explain what happened to us, but Elena knew full well.
I examined my stubble carefully, it would always grow back within a matter of hours. I half-expected Mikey to be lurking in the shadows; he always did that.
Realising that I was spending far too much time being mad at myself, I sauntered back to my room.Frank had positioned himself on the far left, and had completely covered himself except for his face. He looked so angelic, so peaceful.

I took off my shirt, tossing it aside. I laid down, far away from him. I didn't want him to think that I'd done something to him; I didn't want to embarrass him.
                                   ~>•<~

I woke up earlier than I usually would have done, Frank was still asleep. I didn't know what to do with myself. So I waited. I waited for any signs of life. If Mikey woke up, great. If Frank woke up, even better. I wanted him to talk to me, instead of drowning his sorrows in unnecessary alcohol. I had felt the way that he did for almost an entire century, and I'd like to say that I knew what I was talking about.

He stirred, opening one eye. By that point I was staring absentmindedly at my walls- I had started to draw all over them.
"God, what did I do last night?" He sat up with a groan, rubbing his forehead.

"You didn't do anything, besides getting drunk and roaming the streets." I said slowly, still staring at my half-finished drawings.

"Oh. Thanks." At least he had thanked me, if it wasn't for me he'd probably be unconscious in a ditch somewhere.

"No problem." I said simply, climbing out of bed. I stretched, noticing that he was staring at my naked torso. I smiled to myself; he couldn't see. It wasn't anything to be admired, it matched the rest of my body. Although, it was covered in faded scratches from the many fights that I've found myself in with others of my kind.

"I- my mother'll be wondering where I am. I mean, I snuck out of the house and didn't tell her where I was going." He panicked, clearly trying to distract himself from the half-naked body in front of him.

"You can't leave without eating. Then I'd be a shitty host." I tutted, pulling on my shirt from yesterday. He sighed quietly, me not knowing whether it was because I was making him stay, or whether it was because I had covered myself up.

He followed my downstairs, sitting awkwardly at the breakfast bar we rarely used. His fingers tapped against the cold marble as I started to fry eggs in a pan on the stove.

"You really don't have to, you know. I can make it myself. We'll miss school." He hesitated, his fingers tapping rapidly now.

"I think that we both know that you don't want to go there. I for one don't either, so eat it." I slid the plate towards him, it stopped directly in front of his hands. He looked up at me, eyes acknowledging that I was completely right, then stabbed an egg with a fork.
I stood by the stove, drinking from a wine glass, the red liquid sloshing around in neat circles. The metallic smell aroused my teeth; he couldn't see them grow.

"Dude, it's like 7am." He looked at me, admiring my audacity to drink an 'alcoholic beverage' this early in the morning.

"Not for some people." My eyebrow raised as I poured more of the red liquid into my mouth.
Little did he know, it was the very same red liquid pumping through his veins; keeping him alive.
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Song Of The Chapter- Feed The Mantaray by Slaves

A.N
So, after this story I've already had another idea for the next one :3 and it's a good job I know how this one will end (it'll be great, I promise) anyway, I've had a mega busy past few days, in which I've had a German speaking exam and an English exam (I got an A* and an A ;) ) I'll probably have another chapter up tomorrow or later today, so get excited