Break the Law For Me [completed]

beautiful disaster

When Frank returned home, it wasn't the best.

Gerard had dropped him off in the car, and then they had both proceeded to drag out the goodbye because neither of them actually wanted to part. He'd changed back in to his own clothes, though Gerard had kindly given him the hoodie he'd borrowed. It meant a lot more to Frank than he could express because it smelled like Gerard -coffee and cigarettes.

As he strolled up to the front door, he realised it was unlocked. Panicking a little, he glanced around and spotted his parent's cars parked down the street.

"Oh, shit." He mumbled. That couldn't be a good thing.

Taking a deep breath, Frank hugged Gerard's hoodie tighter to his chest and ventured inside. It was quite dark. The moment he shut the door, his mother appeared from living room. She seemed a tad livid.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"What?" His heart skipped a beat. How long had they been here?

"Where the hell have you been?" She repeated, crossing her arms and tapping her foot like annoyed parents always seemed to do. It was like the universal 'I'm a pissed off parent' stance.

"Uhm, Brendon's." He choked out. "Where's dad?" His father was usually calmer and more forgiving.

"Don't try and change the subject." She snapped, and Frank stepped back. "I phoned Brendon's mum, and she says she hasn't seen you either. We tried to call you, but you didn't answer."

Damn. Frank had completely forgotten to reply to the texts and calls he'd been avoiding. He didn't think of the crap-tastic consequences.

"So, I'll say it again: where were you?"

Frank shuffled around, shrugging his coat off and gliding past his mother to hang it up on the hooks. Unluckily, as he did, the light hit his face and he heard her gasp, briefly forgetting about his bruises.

"What happened to your face?" She put a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around.

Frank didn't have the foggiest idea what to tell her, so he remained quiet. The cogs churned furiously in his brain, trying to think of an excuse.

"Who did this to you?" She put a hand under his chin, tilting his head so she could see.

"No one." His voice wavered.

"Frank." She was growing increasingly concerned and impatient due to the lack of answers. "Where were you and who were you with? Did someone beat you up?"

"No, I-uhm." He avoided eye contact like she would burn his retinas if he looked at her for too long. "I-I was with a friend."

"A friend who beat you up?"

"I didn't get beat up!" He pulled away, hugging Gerard's hoodie for comfort. "I-I fell in to a wall."

"You fell in to a wall?" She raised her eyebrows, unimpressed.

"Yes." He held his breath. "And I don't care if you believe me or not. It's your problem if you don't, not mine." With that, he walked away before his legs could buckle underneath him.

"Hey." She followed him through the hall and in to the kitchen. "Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you. I deserve to know what happened. We come home, you're not here, and we don't hear from you for days! Then you come home, beaten up and-" she paused, squinting at him. "Have you been smoking? I smell smoke."

Oh, how Frank wished the ground would crack open and swallow him. Hell would be easier to handle than this. "I didn't smoke." He made a mental note to throw away the packet of Gerard's cigarettes before either of his parents discovered them.