He's going to kill you, you know.

I hear Patrick's voice echo from around me. I'm sitting in the Way's back garden. The weather is quite nice today, which is good because I need to get away from Gerard.

Patrick appears in front of me. I breathe a deep and heavy sigh. He's the reason why people think I'm mad, but I'm not, I promise.

"He's not going to kill me, Patrick." I tell him sternly.

Patrick's shakes his head.

You're too in love to think that. You know he's going to be your murderer. You can leave if you run now. Go to Jamia's and you can forget about him. The back gate is open. Run and he won't be able to find you.

I stand up so that I am looking Patrick in the eye.

"I am not in love with this guy. He's so annoying. Anyway, why would I love a murderer." I explain but I don't really believe what I'm saying. I shouldn't love a murderer. But what if I am strangely falling for him. Maybe I'm going mad. Wait, I am mad.

Are you now listening to me.

Patrick's voice is louder now.

You have to leave. Leave now and you can live. He won't find you if you run now.

Sometimes I wish I could run away from Patrick. But he will find me. He always does. Always. I'm not scared of Gerard. He said he won't kill me. He's just using me so that his mum thinks he's moved on. That's what he's doing. And also so I won't tell anyone that I saw him kill. He's clever. Almost insanely clever.

"I will not run away. There is no reason for me to run away so I won't. Why do you even care about me? You're the one who got me into this mess anyway. If you didn't keep following me around, people wouldn't think I am mad. Then I wouldn't have been in a mental institution!" I shout.

The back door clicks open.

"Frank, are you okay?" A woman's voice shouts. Donna's voice, she has heard me talking to myself.

She thinks you're insane, Frank. She's going to take you to the mental institute again.

Angrily, I turn round and face a concerned looking Donna. She can't see Patrick. Only I can.

"No, actually," I huff. "I'm not okay."

I wish I hadn't said that the second it leaves my mouth. Donna won't turn me in. She's just concerned and worried.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry Frank. Do you want to talk to Gerard. I think he's in his room. He popped down earlier to get an ice pack. The silly boy said he had fell and hit his face on the edge of his bed. I think he's calmed down a bit now." Donna explains.

I roll my eyes at Gerard being so weak that he had to get an ice pack on his face because I slapped him earlier. And then he lied to his mother so he didn't sound like a total weed.

But Gerard didn't say that it was me who hit him, was he taking the blame? Maybe he's just having a bad time lately. He did kill Bert. Why would he kill Bert? What had Bert done to him that was so bad that Gerard wanted to murder him?

"Alright, I'll talk to him." I agree in a mildly hesitant way. I don't like him. He's beautiful but I really hate him. If only he was a good person, but good looks and good personality are Hard to find.

With that, I walk into the house and go down the stairs to Gerard's basement. It's so dark in the basement. Only one beam of light filters through a small window in the corner.

Gerard sits on his bed, an ice pack pressed to his face. He doesn't look one bit happy.

When he looks up at me he seems to get more annoyed. A scowl works a way across his face and he glares at me through strands of black hair.

"Oh, it's you." He says in an annoyed tone.

I slump onto the bed next to him. He immediately flinches.

"I'm not going to slap you. Unless you start all that weird stuff again." I tell him.

Gerard relaxes slightly. But he's still not talking. He's honestly like a grumpy teenager right now and it's actually kind of funny.

I giggle quietly but Gerard can hear me. He sends me a stern look.

"What?" He rasps.

I shrug. "You're acting like a teenage girl who just got dumped," I explain and he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of himself. "Calm down, Gerard. You brought it on in the first place. It's not the end of the world. I slapped you because you were being a right dick. I say sorry, you say sorry and we forget about it. Okay?"

Gerard still glares at me. Then he looks at the ground as if he's thinking about it. He bites his nails, I've noticed that habit of his. He then sits up straight.

"You first." He sighs and eyes his fingernails.

I run a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry for slapping you, Gerard," I apologise. "Now it's your turn."

Gerard is still staring at his fingernails.

"Gerard. Say sorry." I order.

He rolls his eyes. "Imsorryfrnk." He mumbles.

Annoyed, I sigh and lean back against the wall.

"What are you sorry for, Gerard?" I prompt.

There is a silence of Gerard just staring at the floor, not wanting to apologise because it's his little face that got slapped and he probably feels "traumatised".

"I'm sorry for licking your face, Frank and I won't do it again unless you ask." Gerard says quickly.

I smile slightly and he gives me a pissed-off look.

"Oh, Gerard. You're so weird." I giggle.

"No I'm not." He protests.

"Are too." I argue jokingly,

"No, you're the weird one."

"You're are!"

"No way." Gerard sasses.

"Yes way." I counter.

"You're such a tease, Iero." Gerard is now smiling. He has such a cute smile.

"You're such a flirt, Gerard." I reply while giggling.

Gerard laughs and pushes a stray hair from his face. I'm glad to see he's in a good mood now, he's so lovely when he's in a good mood, it makes me forget everything that bothers me.

"Yeah, so what if I am." Gerard bats his eyelids and it makes me laugh. He wraps an arm around my waist and begins to tickle me, making me fall backwards and he falls on top of me. Which isn't a bad thing because although he's tall, he's also light. He smells of cigarettes and coffee and the smell is so perfect it makes me feel so happy. His long fingers tickle at my hips, as his cheek is next to mine and we lie on his bed.

And, I swear to God that this is the best feeling that I've ever felt in my whole life.