Winter weather was slowly creeping up. The sky outside was a mass of dark gray clouds, no sign of the sun on the other side. The trees looked dead, bare of all leaves and twitching in the wind. The ground was covered in moss and brown leaves that were swept away as the breeze blew. But all in all, it was nice, cool and lovely. They weren't even very cold as they lye in the park, under the tree with empty branches. They looked through the long sticks, at the form of clouds above, waiting for the first few drops of rain to come plummeting down upon them.

"What if the clouds never went away?" she asked him, head tilted and looking up. "What if we never saw the sun again?"

"I think we'd all go Solient Green on each other," he chuckled.

"I'd eat you you know," she told him. "If we ran out of food and people were the only resort, I'd eat you."

"I could feed a family of four for a week," he noted, placing his hand on his belly and rubbing it.

"You're not fat," she turned her head and said to him, reading the hidden message in his words.

"I'm not thin."

"You're not fat," she told him again. "I think you're perfect."

"Of course you think I'm perfect. But no one else does."

"Your brother does," she said, and immediately regretted it, regretted creating the silence that then followed.

"He thinks you're perfect," he finally spoke in a quiet tone.

she shook her head and looked away. "I'm far from perfect."

"No ones perfect," he said, his hand slinking across the grass and finding hers, lacing their fingers together.

"Least of all me."

"We don't have to talk about it," he told her. "Everything's back to normal now. So lets not go back."

She nodded her agreement and looked up again. "Would you eat me Gerard, if I died and you had nothing else, would you?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No."

She looked at him surprised and questioned him with her eyes.

"I don't think I could Molly. Besides, there's not much there," he said, poking her in the side and making her squirm. "But you do seem to be filling out lately," he joked.

"Stop it," she said, smacking his hand away. "I don't feel well and I'm bloated so leave me alone."

"Yes ma'am," he told her, tangling his distracted finger with hers again. He looked over at her, at her quiet lips and pondering eyes, wishing he knew what was going on inside her head at that moment. "You ok?" he asked her.

"I'm fine," she quietly told him.

"You sure?" he asked, not believing her. She nodded. "You can always tell me anything, Molly," he told her.

"There's nothing to tell," she said to him, keeping her eyes looking up as she felt him watching her. "I'm cold though, can we go?"

"It hasn't started raining yet."

I don't want to wait anymore," she told him, sitting up.

"Alright." Gerard stood from the damp ground and held out his hands for Molly to take, to help her up. He took her hand as they walked back, but she distanced herself from him, keeping a foot between their bodies as they walked. Gerard noticed this. He looked down at their hands and up at her, seeing her looking far up ahead as they walked, as if looking at an answer somewhere in the distance. Gerard, knowing something was going on and knowing that for the first time in their friendship she would not tell him, pulled her hand and brought her closer to him, where he let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist.

She snuggled up close to him, placing her right hand in his far back pocket and the left hand around his waist in the front. She was thankful for him and how he always understood her, even when she never spoke a word. They walked quietly as it then began to lightly rain, not enough to make them hurry home. They came to Gerards house, and she walked with him up to the door, stepping out of the rain for a minute.

"Want to come in?" he asked her.

Molly shook her head. "I need to get home."

"See you tomorrow."

"See you."

He leaned down to her tiny frame and kissed her quickly on the lips, puling back and brushing his long wet hair from his face. "I love you," he said, opening the door to his house.

"Same," she replied, turning and walking down the porch steps, back into the rain.

"It's you that I adore," he mutter to himself, in tune. "You'll always be my whore." Gerard stepped into the house and closed the door behind him, leaving the rain outside. He took his long black coat off and hung it up, before walking down the hall to the stairs. He passed the living room, where his brother had been occupying the couch. Gerard didn't even notice his watchful eyes as he walked past and up the stairs, closing himself off in their room, separating himself.