Dangerous

Chapter Seven

A/N: Hullo once again

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Day Two [On Frank's Couch]

Xx

It wasn't the soft slurping noise that prodded me awake. It was me literally just sensing the presence of another human being in the same room as me, so I pried open my eyes to see who was hovering.

Again with the unrecognizable ceil- wait...

Right...

Let me guess; if I take a glance towards the wall by the door, Frank will be leaning on the wall, there, slurping a can of soup.

Sure enough, my hunch was right.

What was it with this guy and his canned foods? Mainly his soups, but still, "Mornin', sunshine," Frank grumbled.

"Why is it, that every time I wake up, I see you, and you're leaning by the door eating soup out of a can?"

He shrugged, tilting his head back as he drank whatever was left inside. Then he set the can down next to the three other soup cans, which confused me, because he'd just finished his third can -- but then I noticed he took my can off the coffee table, and my empty glass of water, "I like soup."

"It looks like you only like canned foods..." I glanced around at the stock he had. Still living precariously, "Which also reminds me, by the way, why'd you lock me in?"

"To make sure y'didn't get into any trouble," I sat upright a little more as he started moving closer to where I was, "Believe it or not, you seem pretty mobile for someone with one leg," as he said this, he took his hand and -- pushing back my bangs -- pressed the palm of his hand to my forehead. A few seconds passed and he turned his hand over and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead, too, "Well, y'ain' runnin' a fever. Yet, anyway. Infection could still set in," he grumbled it -- honestly, he grumbled everything -- and pulled his hand away, and sat himself down on the coffee table. Again.

I shook my bangs back onto my forehead, blinking rapidly in confusion at his random act of what I assumed to be parental kindness, "What was that?"

"I's feelin' for a fever," he muttered matter-of-factly, "You never had anyone do that?"

"I didn't exactly have a traditional childhood," I huffed, looking past him. Over his shoulder.

Well, I was, anyway. 'Till he leaned into my view to make unwanted eye contact with me, "That sucks."

"My whole fucking life sucks," I snapped, breaking the eye contact. Which, in all honesty, just made me more uncomfortable with this situation, because never once in my life have I broke eye contact first. I growled and fell back on the couch, hissing through my teeth as I folded my arms back over my stomach, "I've learned to live with it."

I just continued staring at the ceiling. I was weak, and still tired, and really, really woozy and when I was woozy I wasn't myself. I was just beginning to get lost in thought when his voice spooked me back to reality, "So you're Phantom, huh."

Oh yeah... I sighed heavily, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow at me, giving me this... look. It was hard to place what exactly the look was saying, but it was giving me vibes of playful seriousness.

"Am I... am I sure? What do you- yes I'm sure!" I scoffed, "Do you think I just go out and get myself shot for no reason...?"

"Well, word around the street is Phantom took out four or five gangs a while back," he motioned with his left hand a little.