Finding Franco

20 | fall

The bathroom tiles were cold underneath my frozen body. I can feel goosebumps on my skin, my fingers wrinkling and I start to shiver.

I look insane.

My breathing becomes uneven, heavy. My lips were freezing, most likely blue and purple. I lay on the floor, frozen, and most likely dead on the inside rather than outside.

I hear loud footsteps running upstairs and frantic yelling. I don't dare move. I was laying naked with the shower running. I slipped about ten minutes ago but I didn't want to move or even think.

The bathroom door slams open and a dark figure stands before me.

My eyes snap open. I was still laying on the bathroom floor. I must've hallucinated or something, or fallen unconscious.

I stay like that for the next couple of hours.

Frozen, cold, and hopeless.

♠♠♠

"You've been ignoring me."

I ignore Franco's presence at my bedroom door and continue typing on my laptop. The clicking of the keyboards keeping me distracted.

"You still are."

I continue typing.

"Did I do something wrong?"

I sigh and lay against the headboard. I rub my forehead. "I'm not ignoring you," I say.

"But?"

I shrug. "But nothing. I'm not ignoring you."

"Then what do you call this thing going on between us?"

I shrug again. "Not seeing each other all day should be a regular thing between us."

I regret my words the moment they leave my mouth. I don't dare look at Franco though. I didn't mean to hurt him but the words flew out of my mouth as if on instinct.

It was silent for too long, making me curiously look at Franco. He was looking at the floor, his eyes empty and lifeless just like I was hours ago.

Franco takes a deep breath. "I guess I'll just leave then," he says lowly, about to turn around.

"Don't," I say a little too quickly. "I didn't mean that."

He looks at me doubtfully. "You sure about that?"

I look down as if the floor would have my answer and shrug. "You came with pretty bad intentions, babe."

"My only intentions are to earn your forgiveness and tell you the truth."

"And you will," I say confidently. "I'll wait for you." Like I have a choice, I mentally add. But I survived this long.

He walks into the bathroom and washes his hands. He comes out with a confused expression. "Why is the floor wet?" he asks.

I look cluelessly in the bathroom. "Caroline was probably taking a shower and stepped out without drying," I lie smoothly.

He looks back at the floor then back at me. "Caroline has her own bathroom," he says suspiciously.

"I have better soap," I say.

"She uses body wash," he says knowingly.

"I have better water pressure," I try again.

"She likes taking baths before showers."

I grit my teeth, hating that he knows when I lie and knows my family too well.