All good things must come to an end.
I awoke very stiff and sore, with Frank still snoring gently in my arms. I set him down gently, and covered him with a blanket. He let out a soft sigh and turned over, his beautiful hair draped across his pale face. I was so in love with that boy. Just then the doorbell rung. I brushed Frank’s hair out of his eyes and went to answer the incessant bell. The sight that greeted me was disgusting. Frank’s father, smelling of booze and cigarettes was at my door. He spat at me and pushed me aside.
“I know you have my son, fag boy,” He spit at me. “I want him back.”
“Frank will go home when he wants to go home!” I yelled, waking Frank in the process. Frank jumped up and wrapped the blanket around him, as if it could protect him.
“I’ll go with him Gerard, it’s ok,” Frank whispered. He stood beside his father meekly.
“You don’t have to leave Frank,” I pleaded.
But just then his dad grabbed his wrist and began dragging him to the door. Suddenly Frank’s eyes were filled with pain and he staggered on the spot. I realized that he was having a major headache, but his dad didn’t care. He continued to drag Frank toward the door as Frank cried out in pain. As Frank’s knees buckled I ran to catch him before he hit the ground. I gazed into his tear filled eyes and I felt his fear and his pain. It cut through me like a knife. Just then Frank’s father turned around and punched me full on in the face. I staggered backward and collapsed against a cabinet. By the time I could move, Frank was gone. I sat down on the cold floor and cried until I was empty. I cried for Frank, I cried for me, and I cried for our love. Why did things always end like this?
I'm starting to like this story and I have a good idea for the next couple of chapters. Tell me if you think the chapter length is alright.