Carving Pumpkins (Frank Iero)

Her

Her

I could tell that Frank was amused by my obsession with his body art.

Well, not obsessed, but not far from it.

"So, um, what all...tattoos do you have?" I asked, staring down at the lunch table and itching to grab my headphones.

"Uh...hang on." Frank pulled up his sleeves to show his tattoo-covered arms. He pointed each one out and explained most of their reasonings.

"Um, the one on my shoulder is a portrait of my grandfather, who was a really big influence...I have 'Halloween' tattooed on my knuckles, because my birthday is on Halloween...I have 'BOOKWORM' tattooed on corresponding fingers, because, despite my punk-ass appearence, I love to read...I have 'I AM A GRAVEYARD' on my collarbone, that was one of my bands that I was in...'revenge' on my wrist...a winged Virgin Mary on my arm...an 'NJ' on the inside of my bottom lip (seriously, my breath almost hitched when he said that) ...a chainsaw, stars, the Black Flag logo, a human heart, and Japanese sun with black roses on the underside of my arm...a moustache on my finger, because, why not? I have 'Forever In My Heart' along with a portrait of my two grandmothers on my arm...a bloody tooth tattooed on my underarm, a picture of Frankenstein on my arm, an 'NJ' with an anchor for always being anchored in New Jersey on my wrist...'I wish I were a ghost' on my wrist, along with a broken heart with stitches...'Hopeless' on one hand, and 'Romantic' on the other...a scorpion on my neck, and a whole bunch more on my chest and back." Frank smiled.

Frank's tattoos were ridiculously hot, and I was immediatley in love with all of them. They were all so unique, all meant something. I loved that about Frank; he was a sentimental guy. And a hopeless romantic, by the looks of it.

Oh, God. A hopeless romantic with tattoos on his neck and lips...

I wasn't a pervert or anything, but I was a hormonally-imbalanced teenage girl. A hormonally-imbalanced teenage girl who nearly had to excuse herself from the lunch room, because there was just too much Frank, and oh, man, I could see his defined forearms when he pushed up his sleeves...

I shuddered and pushed the thought out of my head. Not here, not now.

"T-that's...that's, uh...amazing, Frank. I didn't know that somebody could...uh...have that many tattoos before they were, um, eighteen." I had no doubt that I was blushing like crazy.

"I had my mom's permission for most of them." Frank freezed, shutting his mouth abruptly. He folded in on himself and hugged his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut.

I knew immediately that Frank had remembered something that he didn't want to remember. Something with his mom, maybe?

"Frank?" I asked, leaning over the table and lowering my voice. "Are you okay?"

Frank didn't answer, just hunched in on himself even more.

I knew that I probably shouldn't push things, but I wanted to help frank forget. "Frank, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but I just want to make sure you're okay-"

"I'm not okay!" Frank shouted, suddenly angry. "I'm obviously really not okay!" His voice caught on the last syllable and cracked adorably.

I recoiled and cursed myself for being such an idiot. I looked down at the ground, shaking my hair down over my face. When I peeked up through my bangs, Frank didn't even look like he cared that he'd just yelled at me. Maybe he hadn't.

"I don't want to talk about it, if you can't tell! I'm not okay!" Frank shouted again, on the verge of tears. "Trust me!"

Frank grabbed his bag and bolted out through the double doors, leaving me confused and sad in his wake.