Just Roommates

Her

It was 2:00 am. I was trying to sleep, I swear. But, with each counting hour, both my hope for sandman's visit and my ability to think right was slipping through my fingers. It wasn't unusual for me to have trouble sleep, just unfortunate. 

Food. I needed food. It was both a need from my empty stomach and a way to occupy my mind. So, I submitted to my body's hollow roar. 

I walked slowly to not disturb Frank's late-night activities, whatever they may be. The light was on in his room, so it couldn't have been sleeping. After grabbing Jell-O from the fridge and closing the heavy door, I started noticing voices.

"What do you mean by 'I want you to leave'?" The voice belonged to a guy. Not a soft one, most likely very rough on the edges. 

Frank's response was slow-spoken. He was very obviously tip-toeing through the situation. "I mean I don't want to do this."

"This?" I could hear him clearer this time. He had raised his voice.

"I don't think I want to sleep with anyone tonight. I'm sorry... I know you were lead on. I know I made it seem like we were going to have a one night stand. But, I don't think I really want to do this. Again, sorry."

I heard the door knob jiggle and ducked behind the counter, weary of eye contact with the guy.

"Whatever, man," he stormed out. 

I tried to walk back to my room without being noticed. A failed attempt. 

"Gerard?" Frank was standing in the doorway of this room. He looked tired. And not only because it was so late into the night. "How much of  that did you hear?"

I turned around, dropping caution. "Only a minute," I thought for a second, then adopted a sympathetic tone, "Do you need to talk?"

Frank looked at his feet. "Maybe."

I didn't know how to respond to 'maybe'. "Do you want me to stay."

Frank looked up at me, his hazelnut eyes almost pleading. "Yes, please."

I took a seat on the couch, abandoning the Jell-O in the kitchen. Frank followed suit.

"I don't know, man." In that moment, everything about him was vague: his demeanor, his words, the words his face was saying, everything.

"What don't you know?" I wasn't the best at emotional support, but hell if I didn't try.

"I don't know why I avoid getting intimate with other people. I... I just don't think I can do it. It's not like I don't want to."

"Maybe it's because you're looking for the right person."

"Maybe..." He trailed off. We both stared at the same spot in space - thinking. "Can I tell you something?"

I listened closely. "You can tell me anything."

"I think she ruined me."

   "Who's 'she'?"

"This girl."

   "How did she ruin you?"

"She wouldn't let me move my arms. She just made me sit there. It felt like you would expect it to, but I wanted nothing to do with it. I cried. She said 'It felt good. I know it did, Franklin.' No one calls me Franklin. That's not my name."

He said it all with a steady pace and a meticulous pause after each sentence. My mind was buzzing with questions and answers all at once. Although, I had just enough savoir-faire not to ask any of them. "It's okay, Frank. I'm here for you if anyone does anything like that again."

"You promise?"

   "I promise."

"What would you do to them?"

   "Make them feel like the monster they are."

"Thank you." He sounded relieved. I like to think that we were getting closer. I hope he felt the same way.