Let Me Hear Your Love (Gerard Way x Reader)

Chapter Sixteen: Bashing Kneecaps and Taking Names

AN: Well, I finally decided to pick this story back up. Let me just say, I started writing this when I was significantly younger, so my writing abilities have hopefully improved. Thank you to all my readers, old and new, for being patient for this to chapter. I had gotten so many upset comments and messages that I was just worried so much about what people would think that I stopped writing, but as I said I've grown and realized that the first and foremost person I was writing this for was for me. So yeah. That is why I'm happy to give y'all this chapter that is self-indulgent in the best ways.  -The Bride

~**~

Talking with Frank had left you feeling like a weight you weren't even aware of had been lifted off your shoulders. It had left you feeling reassured in a way you didn't know you needed reassurance in. It had left you feeling good. Like you had a real friend in Frank. That was something you hadn't known you were missing on this whirlwind of an adventure. A friend. Jackson was always great to call and chat with, but he was so far away. You haven't really made an effort to get to know any of the other crew members too well, but then again they never tried to get to now you either and aside from that one night where you played 'Never Have I Ever' with them you hadn't really spoken to the band. Well, except for Gerard.

You mentally shoved that thought away. There was no time to be thinking of that right now as you were setting up for yet another show. The process of hooking everything up was a grateful distraction and one you took ease from doing. You knew how to do this. How to set up the light-board quickly, program the set-list in and monitor all the different components. 

Looking up from your work, your eyes fall to the stage where the band is running through a sound check. Immediately  you lock onto the bright shock of red hair that is Gerard. You feel your face flush from just looking at him, quickly adverting your eyes back down to your hands.

Its been three weeks since you talked with Frank and you still haven't spoken to Gerard like he suggested you do. You've tried, and thinking of how you've chickened out each time turns your flush of attraction into one of shame. You want to talk to him, you really do, but every time you muster up the courage to go and try you choke up. You have so many questions churning in your brain. About what Frank had mentioned, about Lyn-Z and Bandit, about the kiss... 

 Oh, how you want to kiss him again. Feel the steady and anchoring press of his lips against yours. To feel the adrenaline, the fireworks, the overwhelming passion surge through your veins again. You were addicted to the thought of him. The idea that was Gerard Way. He made your head spin like some damsel from a trashy vampire romance novel, yet you didn't care.

That's what you told yourself at least. That you didn't care as long as he felt the same. But, he never said outright what he was feeling that night. He just kissed you. A sick feeling swirls in your stomach. Maybe you're blowing this out of proportion, maybe it was just a kiss and nothing more. Maybe Frank was wrong. You didn't want him to be wrong, but the doubt was planted in your brain. Gerard had left pretty quickly that night after he kissed you. Why wouldn't he have? He's married. You'd be a homewrecker if anything more than that kiss happened. Lyn-Z didn't deserve that, sweet little Bandit didn't either. 

You could never be with Gerard again.

For all you dreamed and wished it could not change the truth of reality. Gerard was happily married with a daughter. The kiss the two of you shared was just that and nothing more. A moment born out of weakness and sleep deprivation. 

Unwilling to let yourself cry, you blink back the moisture that had built up in your eyes and hastily finish up the last of your work, now desperate to get away from where the sound of Gerard's crooning voice fills the empty stadium.

~**~

You trudge your way back to your designated bus, wrapping your arms around yourself to shield your arms from the chilly wind that breezes by. You're thankful that the tour is moving to warmer climates soon, away from the frozen hellscapes that the winter months are quickly ushering in.

Fumbling to get into the bus momentarily, you run your hand over your face. Exhaustion washed over you. Sleep had never really been your friend in the first place and sleeping on a bus was not helping the matter. You decide a nap is in order, to refresh you system and to hopefully banish all thoughts of a certain singer from your mind. 

You're ready to flop down in your bunk and close your eyes when you suddenly are halted in your tracks.

Resting atop your bed sheets is a single red rose.

Hesitantly, you pick up the rose, all the thorns are gone from  the stem and its only then you also notice the white card stock attached to it by a red ribbon. With shaky fingers you unfold the card that has, [F/N], emblazoned elegantly on the front of it. There's only a single sentence. One line of text that makes the tears rush back to your eyes and your knees what to give out.

'Dream a little dream of me?' - xoxo g  

When did he do this? Why? A rush of emotions course though you. It's not fair. It's not fair that this happens just as you've chosen to accept him as being someone to want but to never truly have.

Clutching the rose to your chest you fall back onto your bunk and shut your eyes. Even with your heart pounding you can feel tendrils of sleep creeping up on you within minutes. You let yourself drift off into dreamland, knowing that the star of your dreams will have dyed red hair and an impish smirk.

~**~

"HE WHAT?!"

You wince and pinch the bridge of your nose, willing away a headache.  After your nap you had decided to Skype call Jackson and fill him in on everything. Everything. From your day out with Gerard, to the kiss in the car, to having a heart to heart with Frank Iero, to not speaking to Gerard for close to a month, to deciding to forget about him and then finding a rose on your bunk. Everything.

"He left a rose on my bed, Jay, try to keep up."

"I'm trying, I'm trying just... holy shit [F/N] you kissed Gerard Way."

"I know," you look away from how Jackson's  now staring at you and pick at a loose thread of your bed. "I don't know what to do now."

"What do you think you should do?"

You sigh heavily, "I know I should talk to him, but I just cant. I'm scared, Jay."

"Do you need me to come down there? I can break his knees for you."

Placing a hand on your chest, you swoon dramatically, "You'd really Gillooly him for me?"

"What?"

"Never mind, but seriously, Jackson, I'm at a loss for what to do here. It's just all so much and its making me feel like I'm drowning in a sea of emotions."

Jackson runs his fingers though his curly hair, lagging a bit with the bad reception you're getting while on the bus. "You know I love you, [F/N], so I know you wont get mad at me when I tell you to just woman up and just fucking talk to him. I know it scares you, but you cant let that stop you and just be left feeling that your life is out of control. Talk to him. Figure it out. You'll feel so much better once you do."

You bite your lip, "You're right. Dammit you're right. I have to talk to him."

You look over to where the rose sits on the small shelf next to your bunk, its red petals taunting you and its card burning a hole in your brain.

"I'll talk to him."