late night talks when someone is driving you home

I know...

Just a little one shot that was in my brain hole. And really, I have no idea what this is. Just some random angst. Maybe a touch of fluff, which I am absolutely horrible at writing so please, be gentle with me. >_

The nightmare was always the same. it always left her trembling afterward, sweating with tears streaming down her cheeks. Always. Karen would wake with a start, often times a scream and she would curl in around herself. She dreamed in black and white. Except for one thing, the crimson stain of blood. It would cut through in a vivid splash of color. She would wake and she could swear she could taste it on her tongue. The copper taste would only last a few minutes but it was always enough to keep her awake for the rest of the night. She couldn’t shake the feeling, and sometimes it would bleed into the rest of her day. All the coffee in the world couldn’t keep the fatigue from her limbs. She felt like she was barely human anymore. Days stretched on, nights felt like an eternity. She found herself staying longer at work, often times looking into more gruesome stories. She would take the long way home, walking instead of driving. Her feet carrying her through the more dangerous parts of town. Karen was walking a fine line. Teasing death; and she knew it. With bags under her eyes she would crawl into her apartment at late hours, glare at her bed like it was taunting her and then go and make a pot of coffee for her long night alone.

Foggy was the first to notice, it was a sunny morning and they were eating breakfast when he voiced it. “Karen, maybe you should go talk to someone?” 

She didn’t know why but the statement had pissed her off. More than just anger, she was offended. Her brows had knitted together and her jaw had set, she’d let out a huff as she downed the last of her coffee. “I’m fine, Foggy.” She’d snapped in a tone that had him raising his hands in defense and dropping the subject completely. 

But, as she let loose a startled scream and sat bold upright in her bed she could’t help but wonder if maybe Foggy was right. Maybe she needed to talk to someone…. Anyone. 

Frank didn’t know when it happened. When he had started listening to her. Following her. Hell, he didn’t understand it and the more he dug into his subconscious the more he didn’t want to understand it. Less and Less he dreamt of dark blond locks splashing across his skin and more he found himself thinking of a pale blond with the biggest blue eyes in existence. It would fade in and out of his unconscious state. It would have him panting as he jerked himself from sleep. 

If you do this you’re dead to me!

The words echoed in his skull, bounced around until he could’t ignore it any longer and her was seeking her out. He would never show his face, no, that would mean he would have to face the question that would inevitably tumble from her pretty lips. He couldn’t answer the why or the how or the where. he could’t have that conversation. But, night after night he sat on her rooftop and listened to the scream that always emerged from her lungs. He tailed her as she ventured into the deepest, darkest parts of town and he willed himself not to confront her. 

It was a night like any other and he vowed that he would go home after his last kill but he found himself sitting on that fucking roof again, listening to her heart wrenching sobs through an open window. His heart twisted painfully in his chest and he didn’t know how long he stared out over the city before he heard the scraping of the roof door and he jerked from his sitting position and twisted. 

Karen looked like pure sunlight as she walked through that door. Her hair glinted the early morning light and had him frowning as her Persian blue eyes met and locked with his. He could plainly see the darkness under her eyes now. The slump of her shoulders even under the blanket she was wrapped in. She carried two cups of steaming coffee in her hands as she made her way toward him. She didn’t ’t say anything at first as she handed him a mug and ignored his slightly surprised expression. Once she had settled on the roof, her feet dangling over the edge she looked up at him. 

“You can just come down instead of sitting up here half the night, Frank.” 

Really, it shouldn’t surprise him that she knew he was there. Karen was a smart woman and he found that the men in her life didn’t give her nearly enough credit. 

“How long have you known?” Came his gravel filled question. 

Karen rolled a shoulder, her eyes focused on the rising sun. “Long enough.” She whispered as Frank settled down beside her. 

They didn’t say anything for several minutes before her soft voice fluttered into the morning air. 

“I’m sorry..” 

Frank knew what she meant, she didn’t have to elaborate. His jaw worked under a few days worth of stubble and his temple popped as he mulled over her words. 

“I know.” 

Bad Habits (Mark Tuan) pt. 1

Summary: Mark was a mix of idea and ideal, yet he hurt you so many times. Though unintentional, it didn’t lessen the blow. You’ve been in love with Mark since junior high, and he hadn’t loved you yet. The two of you had already had a second, third and fourth chance. What are the odds of a fifth chance?

genre: fluff, slight angst

part 1 of 3

word count: 896


Originally posted by markticseas

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