Y/N's P.O.V.
I shot up out of bed, breathing heavily. The nightmare was still fresh in my mind as I slipped out of Frank's bed. I must have fallen asleep at some point. He wasn't in it anyway and there was no music playing tonight. I went into my room and picked up my pack of cigarettes. I didn't exactly smoke often, but I usually had a pack with me. I went outside, more than surprised to find Frank sat on the wall.
"You okay?" I asked quietly and I noticed he was smoking, so I sat next to him.
"No. You?" I shrugged and took a drag of my cigarette.
"The other day, when that kid mentioned that he thought I hit you, the reason why I got upset was bullshit."
"I know." I sighed and he looked at me.
"Come on, Frank. You really think I'd believe you'd get that upset over a stupid rumour? I just figured you didn't want to talk about it."
"Yeah, well, you were right." He muttered.
"My mom and dad broke up when I was just a little kid. My mom got a new boyfriend and he used to hit her, a lot. She'd send me to my room and he'd come in drunk, beat the shit out of her, then go to bed. One night, me and mom fell asleep on the couch and he almost killed her, hit me a few times too. My real dad came to pick me up, I was supposed to be staying with him, but he found us unconscious and bloody on the floor. Mom's boyfriend had already left."
"Frank, I had no idea." I replied quietly and he nodded.
"That was a year before the robbery. My parents had figured they'd give their relationship another shot and for a few months, everything was fucking perfect." He said monotonously. He finished his cigarette and dropped it on the floor. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort him, but as I opened my mouth, my phone began to ring. I pulled it out, intending on hanging up on whoever it was, but after seeing the contact I hesitated.
"Zara? It's 3 in the morning, why the fuck are you calling me?" I asked, irritated.
"I didn't think you'd be asleep." I could hear the slight smirk in her voice.
"What do you want? Isn't it like 5 in the morning in England?" I asked and Frank looked at me for a second, before his gaze dropped back down to the floor.
"Yeah, well I'm in the airport. My flight's in about 45 minutes and I thought I'd warn you." She sighed.
"I've spoken to your mother, she's already moved out, but left the house to you. Her fiancé paid everything off and I'm coming over for a few days, just to make sure you're okay."
"I'm fine." I snapped, annoyed at my mother mostly.
"I bet she didn't mention that she slapped me, don't bother coming."
"She did what? I'm coming over, Y/N and you're filling me in on everything." Zara hung up and I groaned.
"Fucking Hell."
"What?" Frank asked and I realised he had lit another cigarette.
"My aunt is coming over from England. She's spoken to my mom and apparently the house has been put in my name. Everything paid for." I sighed.
"I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm dragging you into all of this and I'm just tired, I guess."
"Don't be." He muttered, pulling me into a side hug.
"We're both fucked up."
He kept one arm wrapped around me as he finished his cigarette, then we went back inside.
We sat on the couch and it got awkward, fast.
So I did the one thing we seemed to do if the situation got too awkward, stressful or quiet.
I kissed Frank and he seemed just as eager to kiss back.
I loved the way he was gentle, yet rough, hands roaming as we made out, pushing down the nagging feeling that something was wrong.
