Stomach Tied in Knots

So I was too lazy to make separate parts. Enjoy. :)

CHAPTER ONE

Look at me.

Frank closes the 700 something paged book and rubs his jaw. Look at me, Snape had said. Just to see Harry’s eyes. To see those eyes of his long lost love.

Frank had carried his favorite book to the coffee shop nearby. He had seen the small sign hanging off the run-down brick building on his way into town. He had moved out of the City to be alone, where no one knew him. Where no one could make him relive his past.

The apartment building he had moved into was not the nicest of buildings. The structure was fumbly and worn-down and Frank was lucky enough to move in when everyone was at work. He managed to move in, avoiding everyone.

Ding.

The door of the café swooshes open with a bright ding. The man in the long, black overcoat has instantaneously let all the cold air from outside in. Winters were never friendly for New York folk.

The man, who was so overjoyed to torture the rest of us with his cold air, is wearing not only an overcoat but a grey scarf. His hands are covered with splotches of rainbow colored paints. His hair matches his overcoat (or vice versa) and his eyes resemble the shade of a serpent’s skin.

And Frank has never seen anyone more beautiful.

“Yes I’d like a regular coffee. Black.” The man, who seems to resemble Benedict Cumberbatch from Sherlock with a more feminine face, demands.

The waitress behind the counter taking the order seems to have been as awe-struck as Frank and Frank begins to stifle a giggle when she stares at him longingly. As the girl by the coffee-maker makes the coffee the waitress sighs and leans her head onto her hands on the counter, staring at the man. When the coffee is ready the girl hands it over.

“Here you go… Sir.” She slides the cup over and Frank can’t help himself as he laughs uncontrollably at the man’s face, which happens to be very controlling of its laughter.

Frank is almost slapping his knee as his head bangs against the right window in his corner. He doesn’t realize as his phone falls from his pocket and hits the floor. He doesn’t realize when the man comes over to pick it up. He doesn’t realize as the man lightly places it onto the table and he doesn’t realize as the man walks out.

Frank doesn’t realize until the man is gone.

Frank isn’t laughing anymore. He feels like a complete imbecile having not recognized as the man picked up his phone.

Frank looks around the café hoping no one had seen him and is convinced he went undiscovered. Except for the strange man of course.

Frank gets up from his chair, clutching tightly to his book. He doesn’t notice the weight of the book because he’s used to carrying immense books. He pushes the door of the café open and steps out into the sun. He winces at the direct sunlight and makes his way to his Toyota Camry. He thrusts open his door and steps inside. The smell of cigarette smoke finds its way into Frank’s nose and it makes Frank crave a cancer stick. He pulls out his pack of Camels and pops one into his mouth. He takes his cheap Bic lighter and lights the tobacco, taking a long first drag. He sticks the key into the ignition and revs the engine.

Then he heads to his new home. He could start over.

Frank likes the thought of that.

CHAPTER TWO

Frank found his box labeled "Electronics" in his chicken scratch hand writing and pulled out his iPod. He scrolled over to the playlist titled "Fuck Yeah!" and hit shuffle.