Time was always the problem.

Not enough made you miserable, too much could leave you with nothing to do.
And what about when your time runs out?

Time had grown unnecessary for me, because it was all I had left.


Everyday was merely a routine.

A blood-red poppy, every day, because that was his favorite. A morbid chorus softly whispered, because he always said I had the voice of an angel. A thousand tears, because he left us all behind.

I didn’t hate him for it. I envied him, for moving on peacefully. Maybe even felt pity. If he was waiting for me to join him, then he could never fully rest.

“Gerard. It’s been three years already. Let him be.”

Slowly, I anchored back to the present and sighed, wiping my eyes and looking to the tombstone in front of me. I couldn’t read the words I had memorized, my vision so blurred from my tears.

Moments later I was able to stand though, my eyes finally dry as I looked down at the grave. The flowers, blazing red, stood out so much against the dull grey of everything else.

“Come on, Gee. It’s gonna rain.”

I wondered how he could stay so calm, even here. I haven’t seen him break in years. Not since the fire. Normally he was such an emotional person. I guess things have changed more than I first believed.

“Gee?”

At last, I turned to look at him, doing what I could to look composed. He gave me a sad smile and stepped closer, linking our hands together. He leaned towards me and pressed his lips against mine so softly, his lower ring cold from standing out here so long.

I looked down at our hands, fingers entwined, and brushed a thumb across one of the faint scars marking his flesh. It had a different texture but didn’t look half as bad as it used to.

“Let’s go now.” I began to walk back the main path, tugging on our joined hands. He nodded and trotted after me, leaning against my side as we walked through the cemetery gates.

I lost count of how many times we had walked through those. It seems like we lived here at the graveyard. Oh, how cliché that would be.

How can things change so much, so quickly?

Three and a half years ago, I had a family. We both did. We were just two young men dealing with jerks at school, low grades, first loves, and unknown sexualities. Art school became the least of my worries shortly after.

When your parents tell you to be home before dark, listen to them. Don’t walk around the city alone. Especially stay clear of the alleys and abandoned warehouses. There’s a wrong breed of men around those places.

I should know. I never was one to listen to my family.

Life got confusing at that time. It was hard for me to survive, because I had no idea what was happening to me. I couldn’t tell anyone, they’d think I was nuts! But I couldn’t keep it a secret from everyone.

I told him, and he thought it was cool. Like, comic book cool. Only he would. I was some murdering creature, and he stared at me with awe. And asked to join me.

We fought over it a lot. He cried, I yelled, but the result was always the same. No, because I loved him too much.
I had no choice a year later.

The man who had turned me, that vile creature, returned to claim his creation. The two of us were home with Mikey that night, completely unaware of the danger coming as we lounged in my basement bedroom, watching Jaws and throwing popcorn at each other. My parents slept peacefully upstairs as fire engulfed the house.

I couldn’t save them.


“Franky…thanks for putting up with me.”

I turned to the side to look at him and he was smiling up at me, causing the scars across the right side of his face to twist. The rain had started to fall and his black hair was drenched, dripping down his forehead. I’m sure mine was just as bad.

“I’m not ‘putting up’ with you. I love you.” He sighed, clutching onto my arm even tighter and turning his head away from me. Both of us looked up at the dark sky, the rain no longer a bother at this point.

“I love you too.” It was quiet, but we both knew it was true. It hurt me to say it though. The scars were my fault. His missing heartbeat was my fault. I had taken away his life because I was selfish; because I loved him too much to let go.

He sighed into my arm and buried his face into me, clutching tighter. I kissed the top of his head and ran my free hand along his visible cheek, murmuring into his ear, “You’re beautiful, Franky. Don’t pay any attention to them. Just listen to me.”

He was self-conscious about how he looked, and it was my fault. The fire had tried to take him from me, but I wouldn’t let it. It’s my fault he even had to face that though. He should have been off with some pretty girl, or with his family. . .not with me and my complications.

I’m a terrible person for dragging him through that. Not only that, but I have the nerve to make him suffer with me for eternity. I was too selfish to let him go when his hourglass ran out. I had to turn it back over, give him a new start full of misery.

“Gee, please stop. . .I can hear you.”

I looked down to him, confused. Then remembered a so-called advantage of this curse. He could listen in on everything I was running through my head, just as simple as turning on the radio and taking time to listen.

“But it is my fault. All of it—“ I would have continued like I always did but his lips cut me off, crushing against me quickly. My arms wrapped around his waist in defeat and I pushed back, adding my passion. My resolve was so weak when it came to Franky. He knew how to shut me up; knew I wouldn’t complain.

The rain continued falling down on us, soaking the icy city, but what did it matter to us? The cold weather didn’t affect us at all. The jackets we wore were just for show; our whole lives an act. All because I fucked up.

‘Gerard. I mean it.’

I felt a pair of wet arms lock around my neck and realized I lost again. Franky took complete control and seemed determined to clear out my mind. It would take more than feeding my hormones to clear away my guilt. I doubted that it would ever fully fade, even centuries from now.

‘I’ll do what I can then.’

I sighed into our kiss and Frank took the chance to deepen it, slipping his tongue into the crevice. I found my second opportunity for dominance, hoping to keep him out of my mind so I could mope in peace.

‘Good luck with that.’ I could feel his smirk.

It wasn’t that I regretted choosing Frank. Not at all. This just isn’t a life meant for anyone. I could have eventually learned to deal with it, on my own once everyone else had died off. My creator had other ideas though. He didn’t like me spending time with anyone else.

‘Forget him. He was an asshole.’

I laughed, but it was bitter and humorless. Franky finally pulled back and looked up at me, at a loss of what else to do. His eyes shone with pain and I hugged him tightly, hating to see him like that. The scars made him look so helpless at the moment.

“Can we just focus on us now? Forget the past, and try to live as normal as possible?” he pleaded, whining into my neck. I let my eyes close, resting against his shoulder and sighing again. A wisp of smoke trailed out with it.

“But we’re not normal, Franky.” We’re monsters; freaks out of some Stephen King novel.

‘Doesn’t mean we can’t try. I won’t run forever, Gerard.’

“You’re going to leave me?” Panic quickly shot through me as I pulled back and scanned his eyes quickly for an answer. His mind was a mess, conflicting emotions and memories of every kind running through it.

I calmed noticeably when he frowned and shook his head, his hair still a dripping mess of black ink. He grabbed my hands again and held them in his, the light pink of his scars standing out against our ivory.

“There’s nothing to fear anymore, Gee. Stop fleeing like the coward you used to be. We can start over now.”

I looked down and realized he had to be right. I couldn’t doubt his pure smile, or the confidence shining in his eyes. I don’t think anyone could. So, I nodded and clasped our hands together.

“If you’re willing to put up with me, then alright. We’ll try.”

The rain fell harder, nearly stinging our exposed skin. We looked like two drowned cats, but I didn’t care. I was happier than I had been in years.

“I told you before, dumbass. I love you.”