Philophobia

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phi.lo.pho.bia

noun

The irrational fear of developing feelings for another person.

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Frank was completely frozen. He could feel the asphalt beneath feet as his surroundings became colder, sending an immense and unbearable chill down the length of his spine. Breathing felt as if it was almost impossible, it seemed that every breath he took put pressure onto his chest as time passed by him. His bright eyes were still fixated on Gerard's face as the words the boy in front just spoke rang around inside of his head, leaving a loud echo against his skull.

"No." Frank bleated, his voice too low for Gerard to hear at first, "No..it can't. You can't just..no."

Gerard shoved his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt with a stare looking down on Frank. There wasn't much else for Gerard to say to him other than to spout more theories, which was immediately decided against as he noticed the reaction Frank was already showing. Gerard's teeth grazed his bottom lip, applying slight pressure as Frank turned away from his completely with his arms wrapped around himself.

"Frank?" Gerard crooned. He was careful not to push any farther, the last thing he needed was for Frank to be angered too.

Rubbing his temples with his fingers, Frank let out a shaky sigh. He was overwhelmed, he didn't really know how he was supposed to react. In a sense, Gerard was being rational. Why would they see images of two random boys? It would've only made sense for it to be them. But that's where it fell out of place; why didn't they remember each other and all of those memories? And why the fuck did it happen when they touched each other?

Gerard spoke softly, trying to gain Frank's attention with another gentle attempt, "Frank, are you alright?"

"I don't know." Frank murmured harshly.

"We need to, um, talk about this. I think?" Gerard was in a loss of what to say, mainly due to him being afraid of saying the wrong thing or something too touchy.

Almost shockingly, Frank turned back around, nodding his head but still refusing to look up at his dear friend. "Okay. Okay, yeah."

They began to walk again, silent and tense as their shoes crunched the fallen leaves that occupied the damp sidewalk beneath them. Frank's eyes still remained downwards, he wasn't necessarily looking where he was going, using his shoulder pressed against Gerard's to guide him along his way.

"Are you cold?" Gerard asked unexpectedly, noticing that the teenager beside him was still only dressed in a thin, white button up shirt.

Frank nodded hesitantly with a shiver. Taking note to that, Gerard slowly began to peel off the hoodie dressed on his slim torso.

"Are you out of your mind?" Frank yelped urgently and stopped dead in his tracks which brought Gerard to a halt as well, "You can't just take your hood off your head, do you want to die?"

Shrugging boredly, the hoary-haired boy tugged the sweatshirt off completely and handed it to the latter, leaving him in a plain navy blue T-shirt. "It's quite dark, I'll be fine."

Frank reluctantly took the black clothing and slipped it over his small frame. It was slightly baggy, dropping to the middle of his thigh and giving him sweater-paws. "You're going to get cold now."

"I'll be alright." Gerard muttered, gazing straight into Frank's eyes with a reassuring smile played on his pale lips.

"I don't..I don't feel safe." Frank whispered, embarrassed. To be more precise, Frank wasn't the one he felt unsafe for. Gerard's blinding hair was exposed now and could be seen from miles away. And for some reason, he was worried about the mystical pixie-haired boy getting the tiniest bit hurt.

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