*ON HOLD* Come Angels Of Unknown

1, To Escape Into The Night

As Frank looked at his watch, he noticed it was getting late and his mother would probably be worried about him if he didn't return home soon. He was once again getting annoyed that seasons existed because his after-dinner strolls would once more be cut short by the earlier setting of the sun, allowing the beasts of the night to roam for their evening feed.

Approaching his doorstep, the front door opened to his home and Frank's mother poked her head out into the breeze, motioning with a frail arm for him to hurry inside to the safety and warmth of the house.

"Hey, mom," Frank said with a small smile, hoping she wouldn't be angry at him already; after all, it wasn't too late for the beginning of winter, was it?

"Half past six, Frank?!" his mother began in a hushed yell. "Are you blind?! It's so dark out now. How dare you not even think to call!"

Frank scrunched his face in annoyance before placing his hands on his mother's shoulders only to have her bat them away. "Mom, relax. I'm fine. I'll call you next time, I promise, okay?"

"No, it is not okay. Absolutely not. You worry me to near death every night now, Frank, I'm sick of staring out the window every night!" his mother sighed before hugging him. "If you get killed out there I swear I will murder you, child!"

Frank gave a small laugh, before tugging off his boots, "You say that everyday now, mom."

"Yes, because it's true!" She held her son's face with both her hands before kissing his forehead and wishing him goodnight, sending him to wash up before bed.

The sixteen year old sighed, "Night, mom," he began up the stairs. "Love you, too."

After brushing his teeth, Frank entered his room to find he'd left his window open all day, and with him not letting either of his parents in his room, no one had thought to close it.

After shutting and locking his window, Frank moved to his bed, grasping his pyjama bottoms and changing his black skinny jeans for them, he removed his shirt and put his phone on charge before pulling his bed covers over himself and shutting his eyes.

Shit, he thought. In all his tired movements he'd forgotten to turn off the lamp that sat on his desk the other side of his room. He got out of bed, sleepily trudged over to the lamp, flicked the switch, and began to make his way back to bed. But he stopped about two steps from the warmth of his covers; there was noise, he could've sworn - and again; like a scratching and fabric on fabric. He made small but quick steps to his lamp and flicked the switch before turning around to be greeted by a stranger.

A boy he didn't know. In his room. After dark. A pale boy, his age, that he'd never seen before but wanted to know. And then his common sense kicked in; a boy with pale skin and bright hazel eyes and sharp teeth and red smudges on his chin was standing right in front of him, staring at his face and neck, studying him almost, and licking his lips before he finally spoke.

"Hello, Frankie." The stranger smirked, one side of his mouth higher than the other.

"How do you know my name?" Frank asked him slowly.

"I followed you," the boy shrugged as if it was no big deal that he'd followed somebody home and sneaked into their bedroom.

"Why?" Frank asked, getting very concerned for his own safety now, even though he was in his own home.

"Because you're pretty." He winked at Frank, causing him to straighten up and take a step back.

"What?"

"What? Is that not reason enough?" The boy looked genuinely confused with Frank's response.

"No. It isn't. Why are you in my room, after dark?" Frank was backed up against his desk by now.

The boy smiled at him, "You seemed nice."

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Frank asked slowly, unsure how to phrase his question.

"Them? Define them; an idiot? No." he chuckled almost menacingly, " A vampire? Yes."

Frank swallowed hard, eyes growing wide. "Why are you here?" he asked once more.

"I said, Frankie; You're pretty." The stranger was grinning now and he looked like he could burst out laughing any second.

Frank furrowed his brow, "That's your only reason? I'm not, like, your next meal, or anything?" he asked, voice hopeful.

The stranger moved around Frank's bedroom quickly, switching on the bedroom light before returning to stand in front of Frank, closer this time. "No." He shook his head.

"No?" Frank asked, his voice small.

"Nope," he popped the 'p'. "I was wrong." Frank looked at him expectantly. "You're beautiful."

Frank let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and his frightened expression changed to one of shock as the boy pulled a red rose, similar to the one in his jacket pocket, from seemingly nowhere.

"So this is for you, gorgeous," the boy winked and handed Frank the flower, before moving to open the window once again.

"Wh- I- Who- I don't even know your name." Frank stated, his voice still small and quiet as he struggled to form a full sentence.

"Look," the boy whispered and pointed at the rose.

Frank looked down to the flower in his hands and noticed a white card tag attached to the stem with string. It read '- Gerard'.

Frank lifted his head up to speak to the boy one more time, but he was gone, and Frank decided that if the rose was still on his desk the next morning, he wasn't going insane due to loneliness.