To make peace with a savior through the terror in your spectacle. To heal the ache of a heart and love one akin to you. Maybe, then, home is found. They'd proudly say it is, always.
"The list of things she described as beautiful, they sounded unusual for that context. Beauty in his style, his pose and the sensual traits he made distinguishable with his impeccable makeup and clothing, that was his norm since always.
And now, all Frank wanted was to keep replaying the moment she had said... those things about him. [...] In his clandestine contemplations, he memorized it permanently — he loved to sense she spoke of him as lighthearted as one who celebrates what they call home."
She was sudden salvation.
It took a few things being heard, observed and considered by Janet Weiss to induce the warm flashes of emotions that coursed through her.
Seeing bright, young Columbia lying on the floor, silent, lifeless. Completely unable to breathe, unlike herself, unlike Brad, her fiancé, who watched it all beside her, unlike Dr Scott, her friend, who was another avid witness. Unlike even Rocky, who was keen and deeply in touch with his senses while possessing half a brain.
Digesting the determined intent exposed in Riff Raff's icy eyes, his loyal sister Magenta standing impassively by his side in her fancy attire matching the one he wore.
And the pivotal element. Frank N. Furter. Following his theme containing the would-be last words of repentance, those mournful, dramatic and heartfelt musical recapitulations of how he'd paved his way through his life... he had stared right at the pair that threatened him, teary-eyed.
She knew what he had done. She most probably knew the summary of what he was feeling. And, apparently, those things were also not his main concern, much like they were not what commanded her intense musing, no. He had only one inquiry directed at the siblings to clear his confusion. And he voiced it, trembling, bewildered, fearful.
"What am I to you?"
This felt like something she should know the answer to. Quickly, decisively, before it was late to either swallow it down or express it.
Frank was, in general consensus, a multitude of things. She'd learned, the hard way, how difficult and alarming they could be once you had to face them... face him. And beneath the ones that he presented on the surface — vicious, attractive, loud, lascivious, murderous, jealous — she saw quite a considerable amount of signs revealing someone she was certain he did not want to transpire he truly was. And, she took a wild guess, had success in concealing for the greater number of people. She'd always been observant and helplessly empathetic, and likely owed to that fact now, for he was not aiming at explicit vulnerability as she connected the pieces. Yet they were the kind of imperfections way too inept, useless for weapons to audaciously threaten anybody, as he'd do more often than not. Things too human, too warm to dictate deeds practiced through cold blood, to sweep remorse under the carpet and remain the unconquerable one in the room. No, those were a separate category. They hinted at sprinkles of... insecurity. Melancholy. Longing. Concern. Doubt. Each one of those were emotions she knew profoundly. Reckless as he may be, whatever ached in him had ached in her, and she was glad and secure from now on to own up to her moments of recklessness thanks to their meeting.
Above all, though he'd display the kind of bravado attributed to a staggering warlord whenever he'd belt out his ostentatious songs, move swiftly, pace imposingly, speak in his charming voice and thick English accent she grew to love, laugh boisterously — she felt a genuine similarity that connected two people supposedly as different as them.
He was a passionate trier.
A passionate trier in pursuance of love.
This was how she knew, and she had little time.
Riff Raff curtly dismissed the question and, raising one unwavering arm to contrast greatly with the nervous, uneasy twitch evident in his eye, aimed his laser beam at the man with ebony hair. Janet gathered all the strength she could muster and ran furiously in the victim's direction, catching the attention of the siblings, but effectively clutching the scientist in her arms in due time, falling to the ground with him in her grasp. The weapon managed to strike right before they landed, inducing her despair upon the furious blow, yet ricochet upon the contact with their bodies, a blinding ray of light pervading the space and making the hazardous device fall far from the blond man's hands.
It took quite a few seconds for her to shake her head back in touch with reality and gain better consciousness over her position.
Janet balanced herself on her knees, struggled to catch her breath, in a mixture of electrifying euphoria from her actions and utter desperation for the man lying down in her arms, who she'd tried to save. His eyes shut, she felt him heave, exhale heavily, sinking deep into one equal flurry of emotions, before he could allow his piercing gaze to rise and land upon hers. He seemed to carry a blank expression, devoid of the expected apprehension at the first instant, right as Janet held his hand in hers, feeling her small one get covered by it and relishing in the comfort despite feeling it slightly cold. The simmering comfort because Frank was alive.
Next thing she saw was a shimmer expanding in his green hues, one she interpreted best as awe. Awe that quickly turned into an indignant brand of disbelief — why would he convey something remotely discontented upon finding himself still breathing, she wondered. Wasn't that the state he preferred to be in? — before he spoke, loudly yet tremulous.
"What... did you just do, Janet?"
A scoff from the petite blonde, accompanied by a panicked expression at his unawareness of how significant it was, she seemed more at ease than he even did, and tried to snap him back into reality:
"What? I saved you from death! Are you all right?"
"You're- you're raving mad, do you know?"
His startled, almost melodious chuckle reached her ears. Her eyebrows rose at the comment.
It was ludicrous he'd not express relief over his own life... right? He gaped at the young lady and faintly lifted his head, his ragged breathing imposing itself against hers, and as time seemed to remain frozen in this break for mutual recovering, he did something that caught her entirely off-guard, tentatively cupping her delicate face, inspecting it and causing her wide eyes to shift in confusion, searching for clues of any kind in his visage.
It happened in a wonderful outburst.
Frank leaned in a fierce impulse and locked lips with her. A stifled croon escaped her. Stunned and held in place by his soothing hands, she finally felt warmth then, from him, from her eventual eager response as well. She placed her hands on his throat, felt his blood rush through the veins on his neck thanks to the adrenaline, and he stroked her fine golden locks of hair during their kiss, carefully, the mellow sensation he proportioned nearly implying he was touching something precious akin to what their color resembled. Diving into it wholeheartedly, Janet heard a few gasps surrounding them, but all seemed solely in brief shock rather than mixed with reprimand. For how could anyone reprimand something that full of honest emotion?
She tried not to think of reasons why she'd best leave him alone, only thought of the reason she was giving him her time even after the rescue. She wanted him to have, at least once, what he'd been looking for. Someone who was not frustrated, not afraid to love all of him. That, really, was how she felt in a sense she believed would seem far too odd for an outsider. She supposed it was fair to say, she loved this man who challenged her. Had made her cry, smile, explore, laugh, crave, dance, find her best identity and discover she was much happier if she just let herself be. Not a conventional sort of love to harbor, but there was no reason to expect it to be anything other than genuine. His kiss felt not just like retribution, but reassurance. She was her truest, most joyful self after they collided, ironic as it was. Because he — he could not say the same ever since the very beginning. The gorgeous freedom in his image did not fill all the horrid gaps he resented. He was bitter and spiteful and desperate, and she simply wanted to tell him, 'pour your desperations here, show them in my lips. You are loved with all of them'. Although it was unspoken, they melted at the consolation.
Janet broke the kiss and her mouth graced him with a smile. One of those warm smiles he was now familiar with, he... appreciated them more than she would have guessed. A faint smile suddenly lit up his own face, and he wrapped both arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.
They'd been acting on antagonistic ends to each other earlier, a jealous Frank spitting resentful words, clutching and chasing her, the behavior founded on the trivial competition he'd coined of who Rocky belonged to. Although fond of the blonde and their intimate while, the creature had never been held still by anyone. Not by either of them. And through it all, the master of the castle had been powerless to eradicate the strong affection she induced in him. Behind the distasteful words to the pretty Earthling, he knew he wanted her close, alive, safe. It was useless to hold grudges and make it a personal quarrel when the dark-haired man and the woman with doe eyes clearly gravitated towards appreciation for the other, and as of now, it was temporarily simple to solve, they naturally knew they belonged in the other's embrace. Feeling her hug him back, Frank permitted himself a sense of relaxation.
The blonde woman rose to her feet. She stared confidently at the siblings before her and declared:
"You two can take everything you want as you return to your home planet. Just let him live."
Magenta remained stoic, but had a question to pose.
"What about Rocky?"
"He..! You shouldn't harm him at all either. He has been through his share of misfortunes", Janet pleaded.
"I didn't... mention we'd harm him."
"Then, what?"
"His creator, albeit trying strenuously, hasn't provided him a satisfactory and safe life. I know of someone who would."
"W-who could that be?"
"Our eldest cousin. Our age. She is merciful, forbearing. Often way too much for our liking, but pay no mind to our feelings on the matter. If you don't trust our word... then, maybe you'd trust the word of the man you're attempting to defend", Magenta reasoned and pointed one gloved finger at Frank's direction. Janet turned her focus to him, the man kneeling on the floor.
"Are you familiar with that person?"
He nodded.
"Y... yes. She is a very decent person from the few times we've met. She studied her fair share about humans, almost as much as I did."
"And do you want to give your creation away to her?"
"I suppose it's the least I could do. I've given him a selfish treatment and can no longer demand things from him... Janet. You've saved me with selflessness, and I hope to learn from your sentiment. I'll let Rocky live independently and hope for his happiness. I'd never had noble reasons at all to make him, anyway."
"By the way. Why didn't I... die once the laser hit me? I thought there was the risk if I failed."
"A strong contrast in emotion", he muttered.
"Wait, what?"
"You didn't fail, you did more than enough. I meant the combination of emotions that are polar opposites. When they are intense and mingle, the energy colliding and the increasing warmth can form a barrier for the effectiveness of that weapon. I... I'd felt hopelessness and fear, being honest. So I can only wonder what were the emotions that crossed your little mind."
"That's a lot of conflict coursing through to affect the attack. Funny, ha ha, I'm the bravest then! Hear me out though, thank you for the clarification."
The woman facing him crossed her arms, felt slight pride at having inspired him and lifted her chin inquisitively at Magenta and Riff Raff, waiting patiently for the ending of their deal. The blond Transylvanian smirked, not conceitedly anymore, but to conform to the discussion:
"Very well. We are taking him to safety. Worry not, we have no benefit in causing damage to a person who is no longer affiliated with our former... master."
It all followed so fast.
She grabbed her purse. They got dressed to appear presentable. All of them, except... except the former owner of the place. Besides quickly applying new makeup to replace the smudged one, he chose to clothe himself with his sparkly mesh top, using his cape to conceal the attire. She took the red corset with her, still, in hopes to keep a remembrance of his — their — saving day.
The castle was beamed as everyone fled, Janet leading Frank with her arm around his shoulder, easing him after the intense events. The disoriented group agreed to rest for the following day at a hotel nearby, as it was convenient for all to recover their nerve-racking minds, take a break before they'd part ways.
Before she even realized, the scientist was ashamed. Ashamed of stepping into there being the only one covering his body that way, the only one who still maintained the flashy makeup on his face and feeling like an outcast, more than ever. Not blending in. Sensing ill judgment, instead of the usual admiration, coming from every corner. But Janet held him on either side and gazed with some sort of tranquilizing attempt painted in her eyes.
"Don't be afraid. You're doing well. You'll be fine here, I'll help you out all the way, do you hear me?"
He hinted at a comforted grin, mumbling in accordance. No reply. Yet... his eyes gleamed and flickered happily at her sight. She sensed that he agreed, he would be just fine.
As they signed in, Dr Scott attempted to request for his own room. Janet's fiancé, however, thought it would be a better idea to catch up with them... both of them.
Oh.
Janet's voice faltered as she tried to reply to him, and explain that as much as she'd enjoy the reunion and she was thankful for the consideration, she surprisingly had neither man thoroughly occupying her thoughts. She needed to be withhim. She wanted to spare a bit of her time for Frank, for she knew he was in need of it the most. And then, the urge must have transpired on her troubled face before she tried to put it into words:
"Brad."
"I think I know, it's fine. I got it. Don't worry", he responded empathetically, acceptingly. He always made it easy to move through in the end.
Weak in the knees, she nearly sank to the floor in a contented sigh, her hand placed on her chest.
Having reached a totally peaceful agreement, much to her relief, they could all settle in the rooms. The one she'd chosen was on the second floor of the building, giving her a good few steps upstairs.
As Janet drew nearer and spotted their door, she stopped in her tracks. Frank, having made his way to the meeting point in a better pace, was standing before her with his back lazily leaning into the door, arms crossed. He seemed to realize her sudden immobilized daze, and commented on it with anxiety inevitably slipping from his tone.
"Hey, Janet, sorry, are- are you going to get in with me yet?"
"Oh. Yeah. I..."
He extended one hand to her.
She moved to take it, carrying the purse and the corset on the other side, and felt a sudden chill as she recalled the moment when she'd given it to him for the first time, and he had pressed his hot, crimson painted lips there in a firm kiss. With an endearing smile, he'd winked, told her in French he was enchanted to make her acquaintance, and she had... giggled cheerily at it. It was all left to do from the excitement.
And now, he was not the owner of where they lodged in. They were but on equal footing. Frank presently asked for her hand again, to walk in so they'd make each other company. Flattered, she felt him close his fingers around it before using the other hand to open the door.
They got inside the place, cozy, simple, adequate for their day of rest. A mirror glued to one of the walls, another one with a small window. A restroom to the left, a small dresser with three drawers and a musical clock placed on top, and next to it, a double bed. Janet was wondering how her companion would feel without the luxury he was accustomed to, yet had she not been analyzing the place in detail, she would notice he felt perfectly at home as he disposed of his cape and watched her intently, transfixed. She placed his corset and purse on top of the dresser and tested the drawers to find them totally useful and in good state, him following her close, their hands still joined. He called for her attention.
"Hey. Sorry I haven't said it to you out loud... truly, thank you for saving me, you're an angel. I l... I look forward to repaying you in any way I can. I know it will be difficult to compensate fairly after all I've put you through, but I'm trying for one slim chance."
She finally let go of his grasp, examining her fingers upon having the feeling of the touch still linger there.
"Don't. Don't lose it over something I'm not demanding, do you understand? If I ever need anything, well... I'll tell you, but don't stress yourself by feeling the obligation to pay me back. I'm just thankful you're alive", she laughed meekly as one of her hands fidgeted with the other.
"So... what do we do?"
Time was moving, it had to be used in their favor.
"What do we... say, would you like to talk a bit, and maybe hear a story?"
"What was that now?" He broke into a grin, clearly amused.
"A story. Sit down", she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and extending one of her arms to one side, asking him to join her. He did so without hesitation, and the blonde cleared her throat.
"Let's try. Gosh, I need inspiration! Before we get there, I'd like to ask you a few things."
"An interview conducted by Miss Weiss! So far beyond flattered to be your special guest, I am walking on air. Go on, please."
That lit her up. She beamed in laughter, and he beamed in return. Ah, there it was — the bubbly sort of exchanges they loved to have with each other. In spite of the shocking scenario that led them both to be talking now, their mutual animation was intact, alive. Alive just like he was, like her high spirit was.
"Ha ha, shut up, performer. Don't fret because the spotlight is yours now! So, first things first: do you read a lot?"
"Yes! Still, not as much as I'd love to dedicate my time to it. I need focus. I must catch up with a lot I'm yet to explore..."
"What do you read, usually?"
"Oh, it's a given I'm into science books. Always been passionate about the intricacy... and tried my best to understand how each system, each process, and each... living being works. Most of all, humans, I'm invested there because humans fascinate me so..."
"I can tell... And seems you have a specific one in mind this very moment!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're staring. Staring a lot... at my lips."
He subtly gasped. She continued.
"Is it because... of today, earlier? Why did you do that..? Why'd you kiss me then?"
"I just... I wanted to. It made me... feel it. I needed to do it when I looked at you, and you seemed..."
Loving.The last word he mindlessly suppressed. She kept going.
"Do you want to do it again?"
His breathing turned quick, quavery. He wanted to nod. Nodding would do enough to say he was dying for it. Why was it taking him long to respond?
"Oh, no, you seem scared... sorry, but why is it cute to think you'd ever be, Frankie, over this sort of thing?"
"Hey! Are you here to analyze me in any way? Scared... doesn't sound like me for no decent reason. I'm just- just very confused and I was having a little moment. But yes! Please, I really need to-"
"Analyze you, you say. Huh, I thought that would be your job. You just said you do exactly that, as one who's all about books of scientific nature."
And gone was his chance. Maybe he wouldn't ever get to express he wanted to kiss her again. It's not like he wouldindeedkiss her no matter what. That was not bound to occur. She was only curious and that's why she asked, he reasoned with himself.
"I'm not all about those! I was just getting there. I'm also slightly into Gothic literature, mind you. I sure need to expand my knowledge there, but... the wide range of feelings, the inclinement towards darkness and bizarre elements. The passion in words and the vastness in the visual allusions... that's what I love."
"Not a simpler kind of romantic?"
"Guiltily? Yes. I'm only confessing because it's you. But I read simpler plots and I... I like more sentimental stories, yeah. I somewhat fancy the brighter, dreamy side of writings. If that's what you've been trying, no, orchestrating to know from the start. Curious girl, I love that in you. Anything left?"
"Are you familiar with Jane Austen?"
"The... English author. Yes, well, I have heard well of her, and read her once for all it counts. I admit I am not exactly familiar with her works in detail, I've read Emma only and admired it in simple dabbling, but I can only assume she was accomplished and brilliant."
"Oh, you are about to learn the extent of the truth in your words. I'm familiar with all about her, my expertise. Want to hear a bit of Pride and Prejudice?"
His eyes sparkled in approval and he cooed.
"One of her most illustrious writings! Go on, enlighten... me."
Her laughter filled the room due to his interest piqued that openly.
"The story starts with a family living in England under very difficult financial conditions. Since all five children of the Bennet couple were women and the time in question was the 19th century, they wouldn't inherit anything at all after their father died and their best solution was marriage."
"I dread that. Not marriage, I mean, not at all-"
"Wait, sorry to interrupt, you don't?"
"No, I really do not, I think the concept is lovely. Not the dated conventionalism and the thoughtless imposing down people's throats, mind you, I find it absurd, but only the idea that it works to unite with another. I just... I never saw the use, never looked at someone and thought we'd fit well for marriage anyway. My lifestyle always went different ways and I don't call that negative, it's perfectly okay for anyone who prefers it, though... I admit I'd appreciate living that way, settling down if I ever rightfully belonged. However, it is what it is. Life goes on and not everyone finds a suitable match for love", he casually shrugged. It stung far more than what they both transpired at once, speaker and listener. To realize he had, throughout his life, longed for a bond of the sort. And, no matter how acutely he still retained it, he seemed to feel insufficient for the reward beneath the surface. To impress, he thought of himself as flawless. To be held dear, she feared... inadequate.
"Don't talk like you won't belong. You already do. You can always connect with someone if that's your personal wish, so keep trying. You've got what you need."
Her hand caressed his and he jolted at the sudden display of affection.
"Thanks for believing in me. I'm surprised. In a good way. But before you lose track... please, keep up with the story."
"Oh. Right. Uhm, while all sisters were fine with letting fate dictate what was going to fall to their lot in their commitments, Elizabeth, they call her Lizzy, was very determined to act according to her wishes. She vowed to only marry for love."
"Seems reasonable! I like her already."
"She meets a wealthy man called Fitzwilliam Darcy, the proprietor of Pemberley, in a ball... and, although there was definite attraction, he makes a few scornful remarks about her to his best friend Bingley and tries to remain in superior position to the eye, unaware she was listening. She was resolute and responded fairly and intensely to each provocation as they kept meeting. From then, they get to know and feel more about the person they're drawn to, while at war with differences they believe could stop them, in a deadlock with their initial notions of one another."
"Gosh, that sounds... intense. I suppose, pretty passionate and confusing on both ends. Equal in their strong values, despite appearing different through their main status in society."
"Yeah. Fun fact is, they're more similar than they're led to believe at the first meeting. They find they're better people than they assumed once they got to expose their honest character. After a failed proposal made by Darcy, where Lizzy opens up and expresses what she rebukes in him, his heart is set on showing all the truth about his odd behavior, his cautionary recommendations to his friend about Lizzy's sister Jane — Bingley loved her and had trouble making progress — all about himself through a letter. He works on improving himself and getting more in touch with his skills on relationships thanks to her blunt streak, feels grateful she offered motivation for him to quit being entitled. Needless to say, they harbor adoration for each other once they're honest. And against others' expectations, they marry after meeting again, clarifying and expressing their mutual love. The end!"
"So they marry! That's frankly a relief. Very endearing after what they'd gone through, all started on the wrong foot by their precipitated conclusions, and... fair, Darcy's notionless self-assurance played a huge part, too. Ha ha... and, later, it was solved in their open communication, I understand it. They honestly sound like they grew very charming and kindhearted as a couple at the end of the day. Your summary made this interesting by my word. I love it, beautiful ending."
"Clearly! Your praise is kind of adorable, I hope this was useful to make the hours go by."
"Why, much more than useful, I loved hearing it all. Good that you took your time to make this dialogue seem — eh, how can I — friendly."
"What do you mean?"
"You made it all feel great even if for you it's... unfortunate."
"Sorry, I'm lost here, ha ha, what is?"
"Don't you try to play the fool, you get me. Spending the day with a detestable man you felt compelled to save. But it seems you'd always stay kind for the sake of it, no wonder you still regard me fairly."
"Okay, now you're going way off line. Detestable?"
"Has the laser beam erased your memory or something? Refresh: I've said very nasty things to you. And I've also, as a matter of fact, acted frightful."
Janet pursed her lips.
"I'm well aware."
"Then why are you acting, all of a sudden, as if you don't have a single bad thing to say about m-"
"Oh, see... that, there. I never implied that was the case. Uh, let me make it clear: I can say you're pretentious. You're too worried and dependent on others, you crave attention a lot. You're jealous, vengeful and bitter."
He seemed unfazed, only nodding in keen agreement. And then...
"But, aww, look now", she started.
Her hand moved to touch his chest. It rested there, where his heart was, carefully feeling it beat with a warmth he marveled at. His hues widened immediately and he did not know what caused him more tension: the tender touch or the way her own eyes seemed to grow larger and flicker as soon as she glanced at the spot where her hand landed. She seemed moved by whatever this meant. His pulse was now starting to race, curse this fluster that got him by the throat, she was bound to notice. The air seemed to become somewhat thin and their heaving filled the room.
What the ever living fuck was this?
She finally got to articulate words.
"This, right here. It's beating for other purposes. It wants something perfectly fair. Detestable... that's not what I'd call you. I see that you're caring and loving. You're confused, you're dedicated, needy and affectionate in your way. You're full of true feelings and potential. That's beautiful."
"S-seriously, Janet, what..!"
She leaned forward and her face inched critically close to his, he could feel each breath she took and it frightened him not to know just why. Her analysis ended with a mellow tone.
"Yeah. You're the kind who could, maybe, even make some... kinder efforts at your best. Maybe you'd comfort someone when they were in fear. Maybe take them out on a sweet date. Well, let me get daring. Share meals and hold hands? Beautiful."
"No, I'm..."
She then inclined to him all the way, no reservation left, silenced and almost suffocated him abruptly in the most earnest kiss. It caught him in total stupefaction, yet, this was all his lips knew: they wanted more of hers. They'd wanted it before, and it was currently his only prayer that they could carry on.
His hands cupped her face and pressured it into deepening their kiss, a delicious gesture. He felt her hair swirling and tangling in his fingers and mumbled at how good it felt, her arms wrapping around the nape of his neck. Indeed, beautiful.
She gradually drew back.
The way Janet Weiss checked out his face shoved Frank into a maze where a peculiar feeling grew, it redefined him wholly. What was it? Perhaps affability — no, it coursed deeper, far deeper in him. There was the fleeting cogitation it could be desire — except, no, desire would fit a limited kind of intensity. It was a larger brand of fondness, a certain...
Adoration.
Chances were it was what he observed too, the same feeling, inside her eyes as she waited for the communication he was struggling to deliver. But he did not trust his intuition. For all he knew so far, projecting could be playing a role there.
She had to speak first.
"May I fetch you something? Anything you need?"
"A... a- a glass of wine sounds fine, I think. I don't want to get too tipsy, but I'm in need of a sip. Thank you."
She grinned.
"Wine it'll be. See you later, Frankie."
And so, the Transylvanian watched her leave, closing the door. He was left with a little while alone to ponder.
Oh.
So she had saved his life. She had offered to share this space with him. She had wanted to talk.
Then, of course, she had given him what seemed like authentic compliments.
Before she kissed him.
He was fully in over his head. It was the kind of treatment he was not accustomed to. It was nonsense for one of his ghastly reputation. And... it's what he loves.
The list of things she described as beautiful, they sounded unusual for that context. Beauty in his style, his pose and the sensual traits he made distinguishable with his impeccable makeup and clothing, that was his norm since always.
The perfect angle of his head to call for everyone's stares. Hands on hips, intimidating strut like life was always a catwalk. The most zesful ruby coloration for his lips, combined with a slinky crooked smile baring all teeth — one front tooth uneven — to showcase him as a connoisseur in all things physical.
The best intonation in his deep, rich voice, to create a spectacle starring himself. Clothes revealing a fair amount of the body he'd constantly worked on, but not exposing enough to allow vulnerability. Frosty eyeshadow, outlining his intense gaze. He'd once wanted to make sure all of it was in good order, a guarantee that he'd be a general object of lust.
And now, all Frank wanted was to keep replaying the moment she had said... those things about him. It was making him lightheaded that she thought it all to be true. In his clandestine contemplations, he memorized it permanently — he loved to sense she spoke of him as lighthearted as one who celebrates what they call home.
He got up and tried to find anything to distract himself. The obvious choice: Janet's white purse. She had left it there with him.
He couldn't help but wonder what she kept inside it. Getting up and sprinting towards the dresser where it stood, the man opened the accessory and found a few objects.
A tiny red rose bloom was the first thing to catch his eye. Whatever was the place where she'd plucked it, he knew it must've been a happy recollection to be guarded. Next to it, a tube containing pink cherry lip balm. Ah — so that was the taste he had felt in the blonde's precious round lips.
Item three: a white handkerchief, which he lifted to inspect, but did not have to bring it too close to discern: it carried her scent. She smelled like lilies of the valley. A sweet, fresh and slightly green scent somewhat resembling jasmine — the rich, floral smell he knew by heart because jasmines were, as matter of fact, very regularly grown in his home planet.
One more thing called for attention: a very small notepad with a lilac cover. Frank took a look inside and gasped in astonishment. Had he just found a window to peer into Janet's soul?
The little notes inside looked special. Her gentle, curvy handwriting was quite a sight. And they transcribed a few poems by famous authors she listed at the end of the pages, plus a few annotations coined by her own mind. The works of renowned people includedShe Walks In Beautyby Lord Byron. Next,This Little Bag, precisely by the writer they talked of minutes before. There were words by her after, to have him awed.
"I want to beam steadily
As if heaven and I merged
The dewdrops fall readily
On rose blooms, like they urged
Their beauty to earn a glow,
Provide dampness to the dry day
Yet I want to prevail
Above drops that never stay
Be the constant beyond stars
Warm you up in sparks anew
Love, our candle burnsforever
As I smile and cling to you."
Tuneful was the sigh Frank let out.
He was spending the day being considered dearly, had been kissed in spontaneous light by someone who was writing this so smoothly and passionately?
So that was the kind of dream she would speak great lengths of in her privacy. It was graphic, vibrant to hold onto the imagery she had described in her brief artistry. What he hated the most was how easy it was for him to create the association in each syllable with its pretty author, the author who was giving him more merit for being himself than expected.
Warm you up in sparks anew.
She was suitable to warm anyone up. Lively as she always was, it was proven not to be a difficulty of hers.
As I smile and cling to you.
Lord save him. She had, indeed, done just that when she'd saved him from death, he recalled the feel of being clutched by her, having her twisting the corners of her mouth upwards in delight for him.
He was, however, taking a step ahead in this fantasy. She was embracing him closely in his mind's eye for a much more casual occasion — just out of her simple, personal will — and that would be when she'd smile, with utmost gusto, and the lips that offered the smile would faithfully swear she would cling to him forever, say it openly in his ear in a tickle to titillate him, then they'd move to the side, giggling in the innocent manner she'd often display — in contrast with the anterior hint of her endless intent in provocation — to press and smack sweetly against one cheek, bring it warmth...
That was all it took for the dark-haired man to lose his composure. His own response imagining the chance was like a puzzle for a broad emotion. He needed to put the pieces together before it took him way too long.
While the confusion took place in Frank's solitude, Janet was caught up in her internal complications with company downstairs.
She'd met the two friends who had left their own room and called her over for breakfast at the same table. At first, the conversation seemed casual as what everyone says on a typical morning, they ate together, but soon enough, the question she predictably expected was brought up.
"Hey, Janet, how's it going with you two?" Brad asked while taking a hold of his cup. She jumped and nearly choked on her own coffee she was on her way to sip.
"It's... going well. Frank's- he's behaving, we're getting along", she offered, voice squeaking and her initial eager smile slowly turning tight-lipped in false modesty at the last words.
Out of the two men, Dr Scott chose to bring another question to the table.
"Getting along, you say... it implies you've been having any conversations?"
"D-Dr! I... I meant,getting along. I don't mean to get to specifics, sorry to disappoint you."
A fretful swallow on her beverage.
"I hope you understand well, Janet, you may have been merciful to give slippery Frank Furter a chance to live. Likely an undeserved one, but I'm not criticizing that point. Just listen: remember not to carry the heavy burden of looking after him from now on, that's his part to do", the older man spoke, opinionated index finger pointing in the blonde's direction.
No. No, he meant well, but this would not be left unresolved, because the statements stung her profoundly in the core. Fury flashed on her face. She knew her friend was the rival of the man she had saved, perhaps eternally, but this was a description she was unable to defend regardless of her personal feelings, so, she boldly inhaled, then launched into her stance.
"You listen, too. I appreciate trying to advise and caring for my actions, thank you for all the concern. What I don't — can't — support, is the careless way to see someone's life. Someone I know I'm not baseless, not senseless in helping. Think of him what you may, but don't assume it'd be better if he'd been left to drop dead. You've seen a lot, but you don't know him on that level. So, no, Frank is no burden. Sorry, Dr Scott, this won't change, I really want to and I am looking after him."
"I'm... taken aback by your strong defense, but hey: you've always been able to fend for yourself, young lady. My mistake. Won't discuss this topic any further."
The next minutes of their meal were tense for the woman. She just wanted to finish eating faster than the eye could flick and not unsettle anyone. She knew her outburst seemed dramatic, uncalled for, no matter how resolute she would remain on standing up for him.
"Uh, you doing okay..?" Brad suddenly inquired, confusion on his face as he stared at Janet.
"Well, yes, I am, sure. Why?"
"The... tablecloth..."
She took a good look downwards.
While one of her hands held the savories she was stuffing her face with, the other one was clutching mercilessly at her part of the cloth covering the table, making the whole decoration look disarranged.
She was letting too much show, her nerves running high. Now, her fiancé had realized so. It had her somewhat embarrassed that someone close, familiar, had to try to make something out of the sight. She wished it would've remained obscure with him, so she found her way out.
"So, well, it was good to catch up with you two, but... now I really have to go. I'm... taking this and returning it to the staff later! Bye", she said, grabbing a plate containing a couple of snacks, two glasses, and gesturing for Dr Scott to lend her a bottle of wine next to him, which he tentatively did, puzzled. The lady stormed out of the room in a hurry.
The dreamy trance and the distress: this contrasting pair remained as Frank's companions on the other end. He faintly wondered what was taking her so long to return, yet it was surpassed by one main wonder: how it was possible for him to react with such limitless fondness upon simply having her around... being her peculiar little self. She'd been wonderful. Yet, it intrigued the scientist that he had it in him to respond to her lovingness.