FicWad

This was just a weird little oneshot c': R&R c:

I had never thought about Frank in that light.

Not really.

I thought about Frank in a lot of lights.

Soft moonlight, gentle sunshine, under the spark showers at a show - lots of different lights.

But not in the way that I saw him last night.

At first it was awful because I never meant to see the soft curve of his waist and his bare hip in the dim lamp light. I never meant to see the sharp bones of his hips, or the beautiful images that were etched into his milky skin, above and around his navel, down from his biceps and hooking around his wrists, over his chest and behind his ears.

He had such shock on his face. As if no one was supposed to see such beauty, like that. I still feel privileged - that I was to witness it. But then - but then it was so awkward.

I couldn't stop myself from taking him in - gazing at every square inch. I think, at the time, I felt like maybe I would never get to look at him like that again.

He stared back at me, horrified. He was literally - disgusted - by my presence - his wide - gorgeous, hazel eyes were burning into me and I couldn't tear away my eyes even though I know that I should have. But they were locked on the sight of his beautiful, pale flesh; reluctant, adamantly refusing to move.

It was at this point that I think he started to yell. He had such a musical voice and I hated it when it turned angry. Because I knew he was genuinely upset, if not frightened, and I was at a loss at the fact I had created that. The broken fear on his face. It was me who caused that.

His eyes were on fire. Probably wishing that I was going to spontaneously combust; Actually, thinking about it, I sort of wish that I did.

I can't honestly describe what I saw that day. I'd been with a few women, a couple of men, I suppose, but - none had such a captured beauty as Frank did. Because he was beautiful inside out. I decided I wouldn't tell him so - instead I squeaked and stammered, continuing to stare at him.

"What are you fucking doing in here?" He yelled, not bothering to cover himself up in the slightest. I'm going to add at this point that he was wearing boxers, even if they were ridden halfway down his hips, only just covering what was supposed to be. He crossed his arms and stared at me. "Get out!"

And still I stared. He was just so gorgeous, in the dim light of the hotel, that I could go as far as breathtaking. (Literally. I hadn't breathed yet. I was so frightened that I might scare him or he might never let me see him again and Frank was so beautiful - and - well, breathing wasn't a priority.

He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me away.

"Fuck off! Leave!" He yelled. All I could think about at this point was that his hands were on my shoulders - he was touching me, with his pale skin, even through my thin t-shirt I could feel his strong fingertips and it pained me that he was touching me because - I didn't deserve it.

I snapped back into reality and nodded, turning on my heel and running from the hotel room in a flash.

I haven't been able to see him in the same light, since that day.

I like this new light a lot more.

Everything is a bit clearer.