A Lifetime with a Demon | Frank Iero x Reader

⛧Seasons change, people don't⛧

Something has such an effect on the atmosphere of the room; maybe it is the heavy rain still pouring outside, the persisting silence between Frank and I or the emptiness of the house. Whatever it is, it feels like an itch I can't scratch, turning the atmosphere so heavy as if it's impossible to take a deep breath and the minor wrong movement would trigger something terrible, even if said notion of wrong is unknown.

Since we sat in the living room– No, better; since Frank came back from the kitchen with a cup of warm coffee for me and also took a seat on the couch, his eyes haven't met mine and our interaction resumes itself to a subtle nod coming from Frank after I thanked him for the coffee.

"Why did you do all of this?" I finally break the silence without exactly noticing it, still staring at the ashes in the fireplace. My words feel heavier than they should, both the sound of them and the sound of the cup meeting the wooden surface of the coffee table prove the atmosphere isn't as thick as it seemed, recoiling before the new agitation.

"You told me you'd rather have your memories taken than to be with me," Frank replies, bitterness lost among frustration.

I suppress the impulsive argument I had on the tip of my tongue and exhale sharply, shaking my head to myself. "I know and that was a hell of a dumb decision – I don't even remember why I chose that. But that's not the point. What I mean is, what makes you unsure whether you like me anymore? I know I changed, yeah, but even if I'm not the same..." I pause for a moment, thinking, organizing my thoughts because they overwhelm me. "Didn't you, like, have enough time?"

No response comes from Frank at first, only clear discomfort lacing his tense features and falling merciless over him. "Damn, no, not like that," he breathes, adjusting himself on the couch with a deep inhale, but the exhale doesn't come so soon as he pauses and fidgets a bit before he's turning to me, scowling. "How do you expect me to react? It's not my fault!"

"It never is," I breathe sarcastically mostly out of impulse, thoughtlessly, like if something pushed me into doing anything to change the situation, even if it means triggering a fight.

My hopes of my words going unnoticed prove themselves useless in the moment Frank freezes, tensing up as he glares at me and it's fucking possible to see the anger boiling under his skin. He purses his lips, hands clenched into fists for a few seconds and he's continuing to speak, voice tight with feelings. "Yeah, of course. Everything was going on perfectly, but guess what? They had also been going on perfectly last time and what did you do? Fucking dumped me! Just great!" His voice grows louder, annoyed, but I don't even judge.

The worst part of everything isn't how he is mad, how he's acting or something. These don't even compare to how it feels to come to the realization that he's right.

Guilt clenches around my throat.

Frank rubs his face, calming himself down to continue. "And what am I supposed to do? Give my best and get my hopes high just to get dumped again? Knowing you may just leave me whenever I try something serious with you? Please, (y/n), it's not that simple!" His voice is shaky for a moment, followed by a sniffle. "Sometimes I'm sure that I love you, but then I remember what might happen and you don't quite understand the situation and act... like this! Even if you've got your memories back!" He buries his face in his hands, breathing heavily.

The silence that had fallen over the room only becomes noticeable when Frank's voice is yet again echoing through the room and I wish I had at least tried to answer him, in some way, but I just can't. I don't know what to say or even to think, drowning in my own misery and guilt.

"And I tried to get myself away from you many times so it wouldn't hurt anymore, but..." he sighs shakily, uncovering his face and letting his head hang low. "Hell, why is it like this?"