Battling the Loss You Live For.

Sazzy’s Point of View
Fuck, I’m so tired, I thought, as Frank drove back home. He looked tired, too. He looked somehow paler, his eyes slightly droopy and bloodshot. His body language, too, showed his vulnerability.
I watched him, my head resting against the headrest of the seat, watching as his eyes flicked across the busy road, and then flicking to me for a nanosecond, his expression blank.
“Are you okay?”
“Are you?” I whispered. His expression changed, and he sighed, “I guess I’m still a little jet-lagged.”
“And you call me a terrible liar,” I said, a slight smile playing on my lips. He smiled a little, shaking his head.
“I’m fine, Sazzy.”
“I just wish you’d tell me, y’know,” I mumbled, disgruntled.
“Hey,” he said, diverting his gaze to me, a slight frown on his face, “nothing is wrong,” he clarified, grabbing my hand and entwining our fingers, “alright?”
I nodded, but just to give him his way. I looked down at our hands, seeing him squeeze mine, his knuckles popping from under his flesh, his veins in the back of his hand standing out. The action made me grin.
“I missed seeing you smile.”
I looked over at him, quite shocked at his slow, whisper of a voice. He looked sad, his eyes still set on the road in front of him. His big, hazel eyes looked watery and even more bloodshot. I placed my other free hand on top of his, rubbing his hand soothingly. I saw him smile weakly for the corner of my eye.

“Fuck, I’m full,” Frank cried, yawning as he slouched on the sofa, resting his head in my lap. I nodded, running my fingers through his hair, yawning myself. He hummed softly, sending vibrations through my hand that was resting on his cheek, making me chuckle. He looked up at me, smiling lazily.
“Bed?” he asked, brushing my hair out of my face. I nodded again, feeling my eyes droop in heaviness, letting Frank sit up, watching as he ruffled his dyed jet black hair. His eyes were still bloodshot.
“Frank?”
“Hmm?” he turned to look at me, his eyes bright; a hidden emotion behind them.
“I love you.”
He smiled, his eyes flashing joy before turning back to their morbid and upsetting state. His hand made its way to mine, his other finding its place on my neck.
“I love you, too.”

“Sazzy,” I heard Frank whisper into my ear urgently, quietly.
“Mmm…” I hummed, stirring against Frank’s arms, which I noticed were secured around me tight, protectively. My senses were weak, my eyes burning from being awoken from my sleep.
“Shh. Please, just… stay awake, babe. Alright?” he murmured softly in my ear. I grumbled, nuzzling my head in Frank’s collar bone, feeling his arms tighten even more around me.
“Stay awake…” he mumbled again, looping his fingers through my hair. I nodded dejectedly, fighting back a groan.
After a few seconds, I heard a rustle and light movements, sensing someone else other than me and Frank in our room.
“Frank…” I began in a whisper, but he squeezed me to him, quietening me, “wait.”
A small, sharp cry echoed through the room, just as a breeze filtered around, probably from the open window.
We close the window at night…
“Fuck,” I heard a quiet, barely inaudible mumble. Frank shuffled slightly; moving me even closer to him… if that was possible.
“Err... Sazzy? Is that… you? Are you awake?” I recognised the voice that called out to me, but couldn’t really place it…
“Fuck. Why does she have two fucking heads…?” the voice whispered again, this time, it was closer. I heard a soft thud on the floor, and I swallowed, getting a little more scared.
Who the fuck broke into our room at this time of night?
And I do not have two heads!
Something clicked.
“Ani…” I whispered against Frank. I felt him move, look down at me.
“Are you sure?” I could barely hear him say it.
“Yeah.”
I twisted in the bed, leaning up on my elbow with Frank’s arms still draped around me, in case.
“Ani…?” I whispered loudly, so they could hear.
“Sazzy? You…! Ah, thank fuck, put the light on, Jesus,” she cried, then slapping her hand to her mouth, remembering the lateness of the hour.
I scrambled around, hearing Frank groan lightly. I reached over, flicking the light on, my eyes squinting automatically, Frank grumbling with the sheets pulled over his head.
“What the fuck?! Frank!” Ani cried, before slapping her hand to her mouth, yet again.
“Ani, I’m going to fucking kill you in a minute,” I hissed, lying back down on the bed. I heard her rustle around, and turned my head, watching her sit on the futon.
“Why the fuck are you here so late?” I groaned, pulling the sheets from underneath me, pulling them up and tucking the duvet under my chin, Frank’s arms snaking around me. I carried on watching her, as she scanned around the room nervously, picking at the comforter on the futon. She was dressed in a pair of black skinnies, which where mine, I’d noticed, and a plain grey t-shirt, a tight black hoodie on top.
“I… I’ve run away.”