Public Airplane ::Frerard::
Frankie held his hands overtop his head for about two seconds before driving them into his lap with such force his hands slapped against his skin. Im bored, he moaned, light eyes rolling upward and looking pleadingly at the ceiling. Raising his tattooed hands once again, he angrily swiped at his eyes, rubbing away any essence of delusion. Dammit, now I remember why I hated planes so damn much.
Gerard, who sat beside him, smirked broadly and stretched as well. Headphones curled around his neck delicately, an iPod clutched in one pale hand. On his lap lay a novel, one Frank had never heard of. His eyes flickered to the title before dashing away, returning to the despairingly boring plane. Gerard rolled his eyes at his flying companion and nudged him in the side. Ya know, he said smugly, it was you who opted we go on this fucking plane, not me. You said you were sick of driving and Toro and Bryar agreed! Adding, quite com