My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

“Hey, Linds.” Frank's voice could be heard from the other side of my hotel room door as I sat on my bed, “Can I come in?”

I got up and shuffled over to the door, opening it to reveal Frank. His face was red and his eyes were squinting at me. I knew he was drunk before the smell of beer hit my nostrils.

“We're going swimming in the hotel pool, wanna come?” He asked me.

“Jamia is going too?” I raised my eyebrows and Frank nodded.

“She's really a nice person, you just have to give her time.” Frank told me, biting his lip as he looked at my annoyed expression.

“You seem to be spending enough time with her for the both of us.” I grumbled, turning around as I started to swing the door shut, “And thanks for the invite, but I don't feel much like swimming.”

The door shut and I crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over my body and sighing.

I stared at the alarm clock without really looking at it as I tried to get a hold on what I was feeling inside. But I couldn't understand my own emotions. First there was jealousy. I knew it was there; somewhere inside my gut I was jealous of Jamia and how she seemed to be perfect. I could feel that ugly green monster rearing it's head everytime Jamia was in my sight.

Then there was anger. Anger and annoyance. I was frustrated that Frank would want to spend so much time with someone who had clearly broken his heart into a ton of pieces. I was angry at Jamia, for even coming here in the first place. Then I was angry at the band, for allowing her to stay, and acting as if they were all friends who hadn't seen each other in years. Lastly, I was furious at Frank. But I didn't know why. Sure, I was mad that he seemed to have forgiven Jamia, but there was some other reason I was upset with him, buried underneath all my emotions.

I rolled over onto my back and gazed at the ceiling fan, watching as it slowly spun, round and round. For each blade- there were five of them- I counted a different emotion that I felt inside. Anger, jealousy, frustration, annoyance. And then some other emotion, one that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I counted, again and again, as the fan spun around. Anger, jealousy, frustration, annoyance, questionable emotion. Anger, jealousy, frustration, annoyance, questionable emotion. Anger, jealousy, frustration...

I must have fallen asleep staring at that fan, because next thing I knew, there was a knocking on my door and when my eyes shot open it was pitch black.

I fumbled for the lamp switch next to me and blinked in the sudden bright light as it turned on. Unbalanced and drowsy, I pulled myself off my bed and towards the door.

I had barely turned the knob when my door was pushed open and a person had entered my room. I heard the door click shut as the person turned on the light above us.

It was Frank, and he was staring at me with those hypnotic hazel eyes of his.

“I don't care how you feel about Jamia.” He said to me, his sentences coming out quick and jumbled, “Maybe you hate her, or are jealous of her, or whatever. But I don't care, and you shouldn't either. I loved her, okay? And that's something you're going to have to deal with for the rest of your life. But right now, I don't love her. I love you. And you are the one I want to be with, no matter how many Jamia's life tosses at me. I'm not going to leave you.”

Frank stepped up to me and bent his head, pressing his lips to mine tentatively. We remained, hesitant, as our lips touched, as if we were both taking the time to memorize the feeling before we seperated.

I could feel the blood pumping through my veins as I took half a step closer to Frank, bringing our bodies and lips closer. At the same time, Frank's arms came up to support my waist as he kissed me with more passion. I felt my head spin with the rush of it all, felt my heart start beating faster, felt my pulse quicken as our breath mixed with one another's. I felt like with this kiss, I was living in a fantasy world, and the moment when our lips disconnected, I would be brought back to harsh reality.

It was because of this thought that I began kissing Frank with more force, wanting to not be sent back into my old life. I lightly pulled on Frank's lower lip and felt the pleasure of his tongue, dancing with my own.

Frank lifted his hand to hold the back of my head gently as he slowly pulled away. His kiss left a lingering feeling on my lips, and I wanted to bring my face back to meet his lips, where they were curved into that secretive smile.

“I'm never leaving you.” He whispered agaisnt my cheek as he let go of my body and walked out of my room, leaving me standing alone.

I raised a hand to gently touch my lips, and they felt hot. With a sudden pang, I realized that mysterious fifth emotion that I couldn't figure out before.

It was confusion.