Cabin of Bad Dreams and Towel Scenes

.one.

I hadn't been in the woods for almost two months. My mother told me that if I didn't use my "home away from home", she'd stop paying the bills for it. So, here I was, stood in front of this tiny cabin that hadn't been touched by human hands.

Or at least I would assume so, regarding the homeless population increase.

I opened the door very slowly, hesitant. I had a thought creep in that came from 10 year old me. What if it's a murderer? I shook my head and walked in, taking in the two month nostalgia.

The tiny cabin was homey and cozy. Always warm or cold when you wanted it to be. The living room had a small beige love seat and a wicker rocking chair. A small TV, about the size of my head, maybe bigger, sat on a small table towards the seating arrangement. A wood and glass coffee table was amidst the middle of it all.

The tiny bedroom, which I used to take naps and blare music mostly, had a small bed on a small wooden frame. The bed wasn't made, probably how I left it. I wasn't too good at house keeping.

The kitchen was basically a sink, some haphazard cupboards, a microwave, and a mini fridge with a small waste bin beside it.

Next to the living room was just this open area, starting from the back of the love seat to a large window facing some trees. The large area had two amps, a guitar hanging on the wall, a ukulele, and a small table with an ashtray sitting on it. The ashtray had some matches in it from my candle lighting days. The remains of the candles were still balanced on the windowsill. I took in a deep breath and smelled something left over from the two months. Not too strong, but annoying. I decided to clean up.

I plugged my phone into one of the amps and put my music on shuffle, not caring if it was loud or not. I started in the bedroom, making the bed and picking up somethings out of place. I even threw away some wrappers. I went to the living room and tidied up, organizing this and that. I did the same with the kitchen.

I grabbed a glass of water and almost jumped when I touched it. It was cold. The cabin wasn't... I probably ended up getting myself water and forgetting about it. I forgot about a lot of things. I almost forgot about this place. Sad, really. I spent a majority of my years in this cabin of solitude.

I took the drink with me and popped in an old VHS tape of Back to the Future. I was about 30 minutes into the movie when I heard the bathroom door open. I slowly turned around and jumped, screaming.

I scooted back on the couch, "Who the fuck are you!? And- and what are you doing in my cabin!?"

The figure I was looking at was ghostly pale and wore nothing but a towel. His hair was black and his roots were... teal? The black and teal hair stuck to his face and neck, wet.

"Well who are you!? And why are you here!?" He retorted.

"It's my fucking cabin, is why!?"

"This is your cabin? I thought the place was abandoned..." his voice lowered.

"Yeah, well it isn't! And I'd like you to leave!" I remained.

His eyes widened and he ran over to me, grabbing my shirt collar, "No! You don't understand! Just- let me stay! I'll do anything! Please!"

I heard a faint 'flop' and in my peripheral vision, I saw the towel fall to the floor. The stranger's face turned bright red, but he stood his ground.

"Your towel-"

"I'm not picking it up until you say I can stay." He threatened.

His grip on me tightened and my eyes flickered to his chest for a moment, and thought about going lower, but I stopped them from doing so. He stayed adamant, but his face grew redder when goosebumps formed on his skin. And we all know what happens when your lower half is cold.

"For now." I said and he sighed, letting go.

I watched him pick up his towel and looked away when he caught me doing so.

"Thank you so much."

"S'whatever." I mumbled, "Go put some clothes on and we'll talk about this."

"Yeah, I'll, uh, do that, then."

And he disappeared into my bedroom.

Okay. So. There was a guy in my house. That was new. I knew nothing about him, other than what his body looks like. And I said he could stay. For now.

I was going insane.

He appeared moments later, wearing one of the shirts I left here and a pair of sweatpants that I couldn't tell were mine or his, but either way, I was slightly mad. I had left a perfectly good Iron Maiden shirt here and he was wearing it.

"So, who are you?" I finally asked when he sat next to me on the love seat.

He scooted away so we had distance, "I'm Gerard Way?"

"You say it like a question."

"I didn't mean to, sorry." He apologized.

"It's fine." I waved it away, "Frank Iero."

"Hi." He said softly.

"Hello." I replied, a faint smile on my face.

He blinked and then went into explaining himself, "I'm so sorry. You see, why I'm here, is cause, well, my father kicked me out. He's an alcoholic. He got kind of, uh, violent after my mother passed away. I was kicked out about a month ago." He paused, blinking rapidly, mouth parted, "So I didn't really have anywhere to go. I don't have friends. All my family lives in British Columbia. And the woods, well, I felt like I was supposed to go there. I grabbed what belongings I could and I just happened upon your cabin. It was unlocked and still functioning. I thought it was abandoned because of mold and odd smells. That was the first thing I took care of."

"Thanks."

"No problem," he continued, "so that's why I've been here for about a month."

"Oh." I processed, "Well, I guess it would be mean to kick you out, again. I'm sorry that happened to you. And with your mom, too." I scratched the back of my head and shrugged, "So, uh, I guess you can stay."

"Really!? Oh, Frank you're a life saver!" He took me into a sudden hug.

I made a surprised sound and sort of awkwardly hugged him back. He pulled away, looking guilty, "Sorry about that. I mean we've only just met. I should've-"

"No, no! It's fine. Stop apologizing."

"Sorry- I mean- sorry- oh, geez. Okay. I'll stop." He smiled awkwardly.

I laughed, "Good job."