Gerard's P.O.V

  If I count these ceiling tiles one more time, I think I might go crazy. I know Susan's trying to talk to me, but I'm not actually listening.

**TRILL**

  Shit! That made me jump. Who the hell comes to an art gallery at this time of the morning?
  I scanned across the floor and my eyes settled on a pair of Doc Martins. They appeared to be attached to a pair of well toned legs, encased in tight black jeans. I moved up the legs, and settled on the well defined hipbones, peaking out from the gap between jeans and tshirt. And as for the tshirt, what can I say? Tight much? The ensemble was finsihed off by an anchient leather jacket, that looked like it was falling apart. In a good way.
  Then I moved onto the face, immediately engulfed by the bottomless eyes of Frank Iero. God. I thought. Now I know why I like him. 

 "You not got anything better to do this morning then?" Frank said knowingly, a smirk gracing his lips.

 "What?" I asked embarassed, letting my eyes dart everywhere but his face. 

 "You know what I mean. I know I'm hot but am I really that hot?" 

 "Now you're just not making sense." Shit. I got caught. Damn my sexuality, damn it to hell.

 "Okay down to business. I didn't  come here for you to check me out," he shot a smirk in my direction, "I actually came here to tell you something. Two things if I'm going to be specific. Firstly, my boss has decided we will have the painting, time to whip out the company credit card. I love that little devil. Secondly, I'm leaving in two days, just to let you know." Okay, that hurt, but I won't let it show.

 "Not sticking around for anything then?" I inquired, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice. 

 "Well, I'd actually like to get to know the area better, you know. It's quite cool and the people here are really friendly. Some of them are quite hot."

 "Oh, anyone in particular?" 

 "I'm not sure just yet." He said, looking at me mysteriously.

 "Well that's cryptic. Anyway, about the painting, how much are you willing to pay me for it?" I shot at him, swiftly changing the subject.

 "Well, my boss doesn't want to go any higher than $1.5 million."

 "Oh, no csn do. Sorry Frank. $1.7, that's the minimum."

 "Okay, give me two minutes." I watched him walk off, frantically dialling a number into his cell phone. I registered it was small, just like him, like him. God that's cute. I thought. I sidled back to Susan, a sheepish look on my face, knowing she could read me like a book.

 "You really want him to stay don't you? You know full well she would have gone down to $1.5." She whispered out of the corner of her mouth. We both watched him pacing for a while talking into his phone before I suddenly came out with, 

 "There's something different about this one Suse. Something special."

  Susan looked at me sympathetically, and went back to her notes. By this time Frank had finished on his phone and was walking purposefully back towards me. 

 "Okay, we'll pay you $1.7 but we're not going any higher."

 "Okay, that's fine. Let's go make the transactionand I'll get it boxed up for you, all nice and pretty." 

 "You're an idiot." Frank said jokingly, before walking off in the totally wrong direction.

  I began to walk in the right direction, casually looking over my shoulder to see if he'd realises yet. When he carried on totally oblivious, I shouted out;

 "Frank!" His head whipped round faster than I thought possible and he had an adorably bemused ecpression on his face.

 "The storage room is this way." I said, pointing over my shoulder.

 "Oh right okay. I guess we should go that way then." 

 "It usually helps." I say more patronising than I intended. I wait for him to catch up to me and he fell into step with me. As he walked beside me, our hands brushed occasionally. Note to self: Don't jump on him and rip his clothes off. After effects could be awkward. 

  We reached the storeroom and 5 or 6 keys later I finally managed to get it open. 

 "I think the funniest part was when you tried to get it open with your keyring. Which is adorable by the way. But you must tell me, what kind of man has a fluffy green froggy keyring?"

 "The kind of man who has an idioticly cute younger brother, who really sucks at buying birthday presents."

 "Oh right. That sort of man. Cool." OMG! MST! For those idiots who don't know what that means, it's not half of the alphabet in the wrong order, it means, 'Oh my God! Massive sexual tension!' 

  When Frank leant up against the wall, it was obvious he wasn't going to help me. I said outloud as I started to shift the painting with much diffulculty, 

 "Do you enjoy watching other people's pain?" He just smiled at me devilishly and came back with, 

 "Immensely."

2 minutes later

  Possible major development. I looked my shoulder while moving the painting and think I caught Frank staring at my arse.

2 long minutes later

 "How long is this going to take?" Frank whined, stamping and huffing like a little sissy girl.

 "It wouldn't take as long if you would help me!" I said, getting annoyed.

 "Shush, that makes too much sense! Ok, I'll help you but it may be more of a hinderence."He smiled at me and moved across the room.

 "So..." I said tentatively "You looking forward to going home?" He paused for a moment; then finally said "Yeah I suppose so."

 "Suppose you'll be looking forward to seeing all your friends again." I said, a little too bitterly for even my liking.

 "Not really." he replied sullenly. "I don't really have that many." 

 "Awww bless." I jibed, just to lighten the now sombre mood. He looked really downtrodden.

 "Come on Frank, there's obviously something on your mind. Tell me?" He stared at me blankly for a moment then suddenly blurted it out.

 "It's just that I've got this ex back in Boston and he was a total bastard to me but now he to get back with me but I've found this new guy who I think I might really like and it's just COMPLICATED!" He shouted the last word then stood there breathing heavily.

 "I shouldn't have told you that." He snapped, more at himself than me then just walked out. I was left shell shocked. He's leaving and I feel like this; WHY?