The World Is Ugly But Your Beautiful To Me: CHAPTER THREE!! (please read)

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The World Is Ugly But Your Beautiful To Me: CHAPTER THREE!! (please read)

Chapter Three:
Gerard.

He just stood there. He looked me straight in the eye's. His face was serious, and a bit intimidating, but I could tell he didn't mean for it to be. His hair was now all over the place and large chunks hung in his face. His clothes were also the same, Just more ragedy and blood stained, more evidence from the night before. I suddenly felt bad, not bad for myself, but bad for him. He stood there, his face cut up and bruised. I wonder if he knew. He looked like he wish I hadn't seem him with way. He gave the effect of a turtle once more, his jacket providing his black shell. And all he wanted to do was hide in it.
He leaned forward with a 'soooooo?' look on his face. I was just standing there looking at him in shock. I snapped out of his trance. "Oh, uh" Did I want coffee? Well of course I wanted coffee, I loved coffee, but I needed to go. I wasn't supposed to be here. Just then Gerard laughed. "Okay I've already seen your teeth, I'll get you some coffee. And you really look you need some" Just then I reached up and covered my mouth. Was he saying I stained yellow teeth? Well, I already knew I did, I just didn't want anyone else to notice. And now that I knew that Gerard could see them all away from across the room, I felt very self conscious. He looked back at me from setting up a pot of coffee, and took a quick look at me then looking back down at what he was doing. "Don't feel bad, I have just as bad." I looked back at him now. He glanced at me and smiled. I took my hand down, but still didn't move an inch, I was still scared. I could tell Gerard was nervous was nervous too, but he still tried to carry on a conversation. As to keep me from running out the door.
He finished up with the coffee and brought me a mug over along with one of his own, They were both black, of course. He glanced up from taking a sip. "You can take a seat." He sat down on the old antique couch leaving a spot for me. I didn't take it. Instead I took my seat in a chair to the side of him, facing the corner of the coffee table. " Don't mind my face." I turned to him. He was taking another sip of his coffee and just sitting there casually. "I won't as long as you don't mind mine." superising myself by talking. It was how I usually talked, but nothing about the past 24 hours was "usual". He stopped sipping his coffee and looked over at me, amused. "Your face wasn't hurt-" I cut him off. "I know." His smile started to seep away. I hated when people insulted themselves. It was annoying and all they wanted was attention. But I wasn't looking for attention, I was just stating a fact. There's a reason I've been alone for all this time.
Gerard opened his mouth about to say something. But he stopped himself and went back to sipping his coffee. This was very awkward. And a thought had been taking over my mind since I woke up that morning and I couldn't hold it in any longer. "Did you kill him?" i blurted it out. Gerard stopped drinking his coffee suddenly. Looking straight forward with a blank face. It was kind of a rude, out of the blue thing for me to do. But before I was in his house any longer I needed to know. "Did you?" I asked again. This time he lowered the coffee down from his face. His face still blank.
"I'm not a murderer." He suddenly looked over at me, regret and sadness filled his face. "I'm not a murderer!" he was more serious this time. But not like he was getting angry, like he really wanted me to know. His eyes started to water and he leaned towards me suddenly. I leaned back at his movement. I still didn't know if he was stable. "I didn't mean to stab him, I really didn't! I wasn't thinking, I was drunk and angry and -" I knew it. He was drunk. That's why he stepped him. He caught the look on my face. "And no. I didn't just do it because I was drunk and wanted to go up against an ass whole for the hell of it. Like some people." He looked over at me now, inferring that's what I had done. But I hadn't, that guy had started it. Now, although, as i thought back to it, I did just start picking on him just to have fun while i died. But that was still different from what Gerard was accusing me from. "I was doing it because you needed help. I was doing it cause I could tell you were hammered and you were not going to to try to defend yourself. You weren't even going to..try.." He looked off, sadness filled his eyes, hurt. He snapped his head quickly back at me, staring straight through me. "Why didn't you even try?!" He was raising his voice and I was getting more and more frightened. He was actually concerned. About me. He was getting angry because I wasn't going to stop the guy from killing me. But as I had stated before, I was a stranger. This was Jersey, he shouldn't have cared. So I answered his question with one of my own.
"Why are you getting angry? Why do you even care? I'm a stranger!" His face went from angry to shocked. Like he had be caught in the act. Red handed. But for what? I didn't know. He leaned back into the couch, taking a quick sip of his coffee.
"Maybe I didn't want to be saved..." I mumbled under my breath. Gerard shot his face back at me, now it was shocked and concerned. Like when you hear your child has been cutting themselves. I would know that look. It's been turned towards me before. I was 14 and, of course, I was hiding it from my parents. I didn't want them to know anything. At all. About the cutting, about the hurt, about my life, about me. I always wore long sleeves under my t-shirts. Always. But i would go to sleep with out the under shirt. I always made a point that no one was to come into my room. One night, I was asleep, and my mother thought she could sneak in to get some dirty clothes. She walked over to wear my longer shirt was laying next to my bed. She gasped when she saw the cuts, which woke me up. And then I saw the same face I was seeing now.
Gerard started to reach his hand out to me, then stopped. He knew he couldn't, I wouldn't have let him anyways. He acted like I had something horrible, which in other peoples eyes, I guess I had. But it's just what I felt. And considering this guy was in all black with beer bottles decorating his apartment, I knew he would be lying if he said he hadn't felt the same way at times. His eyes still stared into me, those sad, sad eyes. They made me feel sad myself, all I wanted to do was stop the tears that were forming in his eyes. And now, I could tell they were forming in mine as well. I wasn't going to cry, I couldn't cry, and especially not in front of him. I kept all my hurt and tears inside. Crying made me feel weak, and that's the last thing I wanted. And I was scared once I started, years of suppressed hurt would come pouring out, and who knew how long that would take.
I quickly tried to change the subject, and coughed sitting up straight, trying to get back on topic. " So you say your not a murderer, does that mean that you didn't kill him?" Gerard's face took awhile to change. He didn't like the fact that I was covering things up. He was saddened that I told him my death wish, then tried to move on, doing nothing to reach out to him. But he couldn't care. I'm a stranger. He was a stranger. I shouldn't even be here. In fact, I shouldn't even be alive.
"No" he started. "I didn't. He's still very much alive. You can't take a big guy like that down so easy." he looked down in shame, remembering what he had done.
The cold feeling he had given me yesterday was back. And suddenly I couldn't look away from his eyes again. I started to get fidgety and nervous. I didn't know what made it come back all the sudden, but it did. Hard. Now knowing that this man was not a murder, and he had feelings about what had happened. Regret even. He went from being Gerard the murder, to Gerard the greater being again. The immortal. When he looked back up at me, I studied his face once more. It was a little morphed from the chair, but it was still beautiful. I was jolted a little by the fact that I had just thought of him as beautiful. I refused to think of man that way. And even if I had caught myself attracted to a guy, the word 'hot' or 'hansom' would come into my head, but never beautiful. I heard him laugh a little, snapping me back into reality. He was smiling a toothless grin, which made his chubby cheeks poke out. "You don't seem to be minding my face." he said in a playful tone. I blushed a little, and looked down trying to hide it. My legs were going weak and I was shaking a little. I hadn't felt this way since JImmy Thomas, my crush, had said hi to me in the hallway in 6th grade. Gerard was making me feel like a little school girl again. Like a little weak hearted girl. I didn't like that. But that didn't stop the feeling from continuing.
I looked up to see him studying my face just as focused. He spoke in a soft, hushed voice. Like he was thinking out loud.
"I don't mind yours either."

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