Creature of the Night (A Rocky Horror and Frank N' Furter Fanfiction)

chapter three

I slid the over easy egg off my spatula, sliding it onto Frank's plate as he looked at it in intrigue. He poked it hesitantly with his fork. The golden liquid leaked out slowly and viscously, filling his white plate with uncertainty. I smiled softly, the corners of my lips curving and twisting amusedly.

I put my hands on my waist, popping out a hip and smirking at him while raising a brow. My satin slip was soft in my hand, the lace dipping down around my chest.

"What is this?" he asked quietly, stabbing the yolk with his fork and letting the gold fluid ooze out onto his plate further. His voice was soft, his curls falling into his face tenderly. His eyes pulsed.

"It's an egg," I said flatly. He looked down, embarrassed. Suddenly he was timid again, shy and hidden. "Over easy."

He was interesting, that's for sure. I watched him eat the egg with a sense of curiosity. I couldn't place what type of person he was. Just a moment ago he was this overly confident person, boastful of his naked body and unafraid to show it. His body dripping confidence and dominance. Now, in a situation that he seems unfamiliar in, he's timid and shy. I didn't understand it.

He took a slow sip of his water. I could tell by his movements that he was still exhausted, but he needed to eat to try to regain some of whatever energy was lost.

I set my spatula and frying pan in the sink and turned the water on and slowly scrubbed at the pan for a moment. Frank continued eating behind me. My Elvis record played softly in the background, and Frank didn't seem to mind it.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and dipped a taste of bourbon in it and joined Frank at the table, sitting down beside him and throughly leaning onto the table. His eyes dropped to my bosom as my slip dipped low enough for him to see. I straightened up some, smirking to myself. The lace and satin was pushed from my breasts. The man was easy to tease, and I knew that for as long as he was in my house, I owned him.

He watched me take a sip of my coffee and place it on the table beside him, swirling my finger over the lip. His eyes darted nervously from my face to my finger.

"You can stay a week, tops," I said, watching him take a few pastries I had set out on the table for him. "I'm not sure if you have anywhere else to go-"

"I have been temporarily separated from my group," he said, a definite British accent playing on his words. "I was with them, then I was not. Something had gone dreadfully amiss in our travels."

His eyes returned to his food, and I smiled wickedly. "A tourist then?" I took a slow sip of my coffee.

"Of sorts," he said gently, taking a bite out of a muffin. He spoke strangely, slowly, drawling on his words like a kitten batting at a mouse. It was dreadfully intoxicated. He ate politely, but I knew he was starved. His eagerness of food overwhelmed me, but he kept himself detained for the sake of not scaring me away. I hope.

I dipped my finger into my cup, my finger swirling over the dark liquid. I pulled my finger out fluidly, my lips curling around the tip of it. I smiled sweetly to Frank.

I finished my coffee and placed the mug in the sink alongside the other items. I looked out the window for a moment, all sorts of commotion where the fire had been just last night, but so far, none had bothered my doorstep. I prayed none would.

Frank was still eating. I got it; he had a long night, but that man looked one hundred pounds soaking wet. It was a wonder to me how much he could eat. His thin body was hidden under his clothes, but his sunken face told his secrets. His cheekbones casted long shadows down his face, and his eyes bore into his skull tiredly.