Frank regrets his actions, he finds comfort in an unlikely place......
I rush over to Dayle. "Dayle! I'm so sorry, i didn't mean-" he holds up his hand as blood trickles from his nose. "You've done enough, i don't want to hear it. Now, i'm leaving to go out now, we'll talk about this in the morning." He says calmly before picking himself up slowly and grabbing a handful of tissues before throwing on his jacket and slamming the door behind him. Yet again i had crossed the line and gone way too far. And i had to get out. I had to find my own exit.
I mope around and ignore the always constant stares, my hood up and hands slumped in my pockets, Misfits blaring into my ears. I was a fuck up, a failure, a disappointment and now it seemed the one person who still had an ounce of faith left in me was running out on me, and yet again it was my own fault.
Suddenly, my shoulder is almost knocked out of it's socket. I rip my hood down, along with my earphones and turn to face the idiot who won't watch where he's stepping. "What the fuck?!" I yell, realising it's the boy from earlier. The adorable klutz who almost severed his own hand trying to be masculine. His ebony hair is damp with perspiration and his earlier ghostly pallor has been replaced by a faintly crimson glow. "Sorry, i didn't mean to bang into you." He panics, clearly flustered as well as evidently exhausted. I felt guilty now, i actually felt guilty for the first time ever. "it's alright." I grunt and begin to walk away, weirdly though this beautiful stranger calls me back.
"Hey." I go with my heart instead of my head for once, calling Frank back. "You okay, you look and seem stressed?" I ask him, analysing his face. His eyes are watring with something i can't explain. It's not exactly sadness, theres more to them. Anger. Despair. Pure uncertainty and gut churning pain.
At first he just glares at me, but i don't give in. He waits for me to dismiss myself but i don't, i flash him a small smile back and then beckon for him to follow me back to the cottage i am working on with my father. He rolls his eyes and to my surprise and delight, he actually follows me.
I fling the door open and gesture for him to open, content with the fact that my father has gone home for a while. "Now what's up?" I ask him calmly as he perches on a stool surrounded my bags of cement and debris. The place is a mess, bits and pieces strewn everywhere but we're comfortable. The calm and quiet breaking the aura of the village. You notice quite quickly the hustle and bustle and enthusiasm of fellow villagers, everyone stopping to welcome you, i wouldn't say it's tranquil at all, despite the lovely views and first impressions of the place. " Me." He finally breaks the silence with a hoarse, stifled cry.
He looks up, cheeks laced with two uncertain lines of salty teardrops.