Gerard blinks, head pounding.
Estella lays in a crumpled heap on the floor, unmoving. Her pale hands lay relaxed, all her nails broken from clawing at the carpet. Open notebooks lay around her, fallen on their fronts and half open so the pages crumple. The same neat cursive lines each page.
The door whines as he opens it again, the stairs dark all the way to the bottom. Gerard's nose is stuffed and sore, and he has to breathe out of his mouth on the way down.
Sunlight casts gold over the bottom floor, reflecting off dust in the air and casting sharp shadows on Ryan's pale face. He sits at the counter, chestnut hair pulled behind his ears as he flicks through catalogs at the kitchen island. Mei lays asleep on the couch, a pile of neatly folded clothes next to her. Their other roommates must be in the laundry room.
Gerard turns, socked feet silent against the wood flooring. He looks back at the two of them for a moment, and then back up to the stairs and the open door at the top. They'll find her eventually.
Fresh air kisses Gerard's lungs for the first time in a month, his socks not doing much to stop pebbles from poking at his heels as he pads down the front pathway and onto the sidewalk.
Gerard's shadow walks alongside him, passing identical houses as both of them glide to the city, its towers beckoning.
Early New York spring chills a puddle that Gerard steps in, his right sock leaving dark footprints on the pavement behind him.
He comes to the end of the block, checking for cars before crossing.
*
Strangers double take as Gerard walks down the sidewalk. Blood is caked on his philtrum, red streams tracking down his skin like dry riverbeds. Tiny dogs yap at him from their owners' purses and they pass.
Businessmen and women bustle past, one blazer-clad shoulder knocking Gerard back a few steps.
The city is too loud and crowded for his pounding head and itchy eyes.
Gerard keeps going, eyes cast ahead. His feet carry him on without surveillance from his brain, stuttering to a stop before he's turning down an alley and coming back out on another street by instinct alone.
A blue-clad speck buzzing alone, Gerard stops in front a building. It's no different from all the others lining this particular area, facade glass and modern. There's a sign on one of the double doors, Gerard trying to catch some of the swimming letters before his pounding head refuses and his arms yank a door open without his control.
Intuition strikes again.
A now fading sun ignites all the metallic surfaces inside. Everything is plush and expensive, an empty receptionist desk at the front giving Gerard bank vibes — even though this place is too posh to be government funded.
His one wet sock squishes against the linoleum flooring, both of them browned at the bottom from the ground. Gerard walks down past what looks to be a waiting room, taking a right at the receptionist desk and heading for an elevator at the end of the dark corridor.
The metal doors slide open as he approaches and Gerard steps inside, staining the rug.
The doors slide back shut, blocking any last bits of sunlight and casting the small space into almost-darkness. The buttons next to the door, marking the building's five levels, glow. They cast soft yellow over Gerard's face and the thousands of him in the mirrored walls.
He watches himself reach for the last button — top floor.
The cart shoots up, planting his dirty feet to the ground and throwing his breakfast into his chest as it slows again.
Gerard steps out once the doors open, a short hallway leading to another set of mahogany double doors. He pads his way to them, cool metal handles reminiscent of his father's office.
Holding his breath, Gerard let's one door swing open.
A dark office lays behind the doors. Papers lay all over the desk in the center, pens left uncapped on top. To the right sits a couch, the only other piece of furniture in the smaller room. Soft snores come from a blanket-covered lump resting on the cushions.
Gerard creeps forward, a pale hand taking the corner of the blanket tentatively and starting to pull it back.
He sees the hair first, messy and dark. Gerard sighs at the features, soft freckles dotting a round nose. The jaw is more square than Gerard had imagined, face older and troubled.
Kneeling down over the sleeping form, Gerard knows the exact color that will greet him when this man opens his eyes.
*
Bada bing bada boom baybay.
Whatcha think? I'm sure everyone knows wtf is going on at this point. I'm so eXcItEd.
Votes and comments are always appreciated. See you people soon!
YOU ARE READING
Belonging
Fanfiction"It didn't feel right, nothing did anymore, the names and faces would jumble out through his ears at night anyway. They didn't fit right there, and Gerard knows they never will." YOU ASKED FOR IT AND I GAVE IT TO YOU. I DON'T KNOW WHY EVERYONE WANT...
