MCR Imagines

ghost of you (frank imagine)

A/N: IM SEEING MCR TOMORROW I NEVER THOUGHT ID SPEAK THOSE WORDS!!!

The roses brown, collecting the sun's rays on my window sill, everything left behind by the previous owners of the house. Though nothing had been vandalized, only touched by time.

My hands weigh heavy on my hips as I scan the room, visions of different furniture arrangements cascading through my mind. But first, I have to decide what I will be keeping of the items abandoned.

After hours of rummaging and sorting, the sun falls short below the horizon, dimming all that surrounds me to a soft orange glow. Taking a glance towards the window, something catches my eye. The roses are no longer dead and brown, but bright and vividly red. I push myself up onto my feet, padding over towards them, thinking perhaps it's just from the change of lighting in the room.

I'm taken aback when my rationality is incorrect.

"What the fuck.." I whisper aloud to myself, even touching the roses just to be sure.

My hair stands on my arms and I spin around to face the voice coming from behind me, "Pretty, aren't they?"

I clasp the box cutter I had tucked in my pocket, pointing it towards the man. His eyes dance between me and the blade as he bites down on his lip ring in a smirk, "What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" I demand, my heart pounding in my chest.

A low, dark giggle slips through his lips, and he throws his arms up in defense, "You're not gonna hurt me with that thing, are you?" He says almost mockingly.

Take in anything memorable about his appearance.

Green eyes. Lip ring. Nose ring. A few inches taller than me. Black hair. Tattoos. Lots and lots of tattoos.

My hand shakes the more I stare at him, "Who are you?"

His arms drop to a comfortable, dismissive stance despite my threatening tone, "Frank. You don't seem too grateful for the roses."

"What do you-" I quickly turn my head to peak at the roses, freezing when they are once again all dead. When I turn back, the man- Frank, is nowhere to be seen.

The box cutter falls from my hand in shock, as I jog to the door and peak out into the hallway.

Then, I hear that damn giggle from behind me again. With another spin, I see him now perched up on the window sill, plucking the petals off the seemingly alive roses.

I blink hard, my mind racing.

"Don't look so scared doll, I don't bite." He smiles, flicking his hair away from his eyes.

My back hits the wall behind me, and he looks at me with concern, "Did I scare you?"

My mouth runs dry as I try to form a sentence. Who is this man and what does he want? "Y-yes."

He slides off the window sill, taking a step towards me. I jump at his movement, causing him to hesitate, "I just want to show you something." He says slowly, holding his hands out in front of him.

Frozen in fear, I let him approach me, not breaking eye contact the entire time. He reaches for my hand.

I jolt up, gasping for air. I frantically look around me, my back aching from laying on the wooden floors. I fell asleep? How come I don't remember..

The sun is setting. I look over at the window, holding my breath when I see dead rose petals scattered across the floor.