Gerard {You Know All My Favourite Singers} Way {Have Stolen All Of My Best Lines} 3

The next morning

“Mmm. Mmm-mmm-mmm,”

Schleo, schleo, schleo.

“Yum yum!”

More slurping.

“Gerard…mmm…” You roll over and the cool air of the room emphasises a cold patch on your bare shoulder. You sit up, blinking yourself awake.

“What are you doing?”

“Sucking your blood, like a good husband should,”

“WHAT?!” You bolt up and look at your shoulder. It’s not bleeding at all, which somehow makes you feel like an idiot.

“HA! Fooled you!” Gerard shrieks with laughter, doubling up before falling down. You watch him with one eyebrow raised roll about the bed shaking and shrieking with laughter. He finally stops, face tomato-red, pushing his hair off of his face.

“You’re strange,” you smile, shaking your head and crossing your arms.

“You’re stranger,” he pants, crawling over to you. “Wanna know why?”

“Why?” you ask. He kneels in front of you and rubs your arms. Now you’re a tad freaked out.

“You’re much stranger than me ‘cause you chose to marry me. No woman in their right mind would want to marry me, so you are clearly not in your right –”

You jump up, push him down and kiss him on the lips. He looks very surprised, and with one eyebrow raised, he looks a tad like an unmoustachio’d Earl Hickey. Off that show.

“What was that uncalled-for assault on my lips for?”

“Why in the name of Tom Morello would no woman want to marry you?” You sit back on your heels, crossing your arms. “What does that make me if that was true?”

You let him sit up and he pulls you close to him. You wrap your legs around his waist – your favourite place (wink wink, etc.)

“You’re a supernatural creature,” he whispers silkily in your ear.

“Says Mr-I-Came-Back-From-the-Dead over two years ago,” you say, stroking your hair.

“Yeah, two years ago,” he says, staring at you. “Besides, I simply returned from the dead. YOU, on the other hand, Katharyn Way, are inhumanly sexy and you can put up with my shit,”

“I am not inhumanly sexy…” You feel a blush paint your dark cheeks.

“Yes you are, for an almost-24-year old,” he insists, raising his eyebrows. “And I have five whole weeks to enjoy your inhuman sexiness. Well, from four o’clock onwards anyway at weekdays,”

You sit back, putting your hands on his shoulders. “You’re serious?”

He smiles. “Oh-one-twenty-two-oh-eight, we resume touring. Our final leg of the world tour, and I can promise you that,”

“You’ll be home for Helena’s birthday!” you realise in complete delight.

“Still miss our wedding anniversary though,”

“You can make it up to me when you get back,” you smile, kissing him.

“I sure can.” He looks at a point in the wall, sighing happily. “Two years married…unbelievable,”

“Indeed – AND Helena will be two in less than a month,”

“Christ…”

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close.

“Happy Christmas, angel,” he whispers.

“It’s not Christmas for another nine days yet,” you whisper back, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Mm, I know, and I’ve got something planned for you…” he purrs.

“Me too,” you purr back. “And oh boy, you will love what I’ve got planned…”

“MUMMA!” Helena screams again, warranting your attentions. You raise both eyebrows at your husband and slide off him, transporting those attentions to your baby.