Frank Morrison Warning: Drugs, Implied Intercourse
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I lay back comfortably, parting my lips as Frank held a cigarette to them. I curtly draw in a breath, holding the smoke a moment before releasing it as he held the smoke to his own lips, pinching it so he could prop up on his elbows. I keep the sheets pulled over my chest as he lets them waver over his exposed midriff. I sit up, clinging to the thin sheet. Frank looked over with a raised brow, "I've already seen you naked, eh? No need to cover up." His Canadian accent came out slow and somewhat slurred, from the sex high, and the cigarette pinched between his lips.
I stay silent, grabbing a loose shirt of his from the ground and pulling it on, crossing my legs and leaning back against the wall, since the bed didn't have a headboard. I let out a heavy sigh and lean over, resting my head on his shoulder, looking down and picking at my fingers, "Frank?"
"Hm?"
"Do you ever think about the past...? Before we met Julie, Joey, and Susie? When you were still on the basketball team?"
He looked down at me with a raised brow and I run a hand over his hair, "I remember it, but I don't think about it. Why?"
I shrug a shoulder and pull the sheets up to cover his hips. He rolls his eyes and I take the cigarette from his lips, pulling my knees to my chest and taking a drag. He wraps an arm tightly around me, pulling me closer. I sigh a little, "I just... I think about it a lot. Our parents, our old friends... Before you dropped out."
His eyes narrowed and he scowled at me, "We talked about this. They don't care about you like I do."
His words weren't unexpected. I give a nod, "I know. You guys are all the best I've got."
"I know."
I look to the loose leather bracelet on his left wrist. It was one that Susie had made for us all, and I had my own tied securely around my ankle. He rests his cheek on top of my head and takes the cigarette back. I sigh and lean into him, resting a hand on his torso, "Frank...? Do you ever think we'll get out of here?"
He raises a brow, "Why? Tired of sacrificing old dudes and young women for food?" He snickers a little, "To answer your question, no. I don't reckon we'll age, either. Julie's hair is still holding it's dye and it usually doesn't last half this long, eh?"
I look to the tattoo on his neck and I nod, "So... This is it."
"This is it." He grabs my hand. A small gesture, but one that he knew carried weight. Frank had changed after the Entity involved itself with us. He never spoke unless spoken to, or giving orders, and he seemed to enjoy his work a little too much. He was called to kill more than the rest of us, and all his clothes had bloodstains. He smoked more and hardly touched alcohol, wanting to "stay on the top of his game". But as usual, I said nothing about it. He was the leader. What was there to say?
