This Still Belongs to You and Always Will
Chapter 30
Elena’s P.O.V:
“But I’m paying to be here!”
“I understand that, which is why I won’t charge you anything and we can go back to normal next lesson.”
I sighed heavily, leaning against the doorframe with a hand resting on the side of my head. I’ve been stood here watching Frank try and get rid of Jess for the last five minutes. Of course she protested and tried her best to get the last forty five minutes of her guitar lesson. Or should I say forty five minutes of Frankie?
“But I want my guitar lesson!”
“You sure you don’t want him, Jess?”
“What?!” She demanded, turning to me.
“You want him, don’t you?”
“No!” She protested “He’s old!”
Frank raised his eyebrows at her comment. She immediately realised what she’d said and turned to him desperately while I hid my smirk.
“Oh…no I didn’t mean…..”
“You think he’s ever so gorgeous, don’t you?”
“That’s enough, Elena.” Frank said firmly.
“Whatever.” I shrugged carelessly, lifting a hand in the air.
She turned back to him and continued her desperate begging appeal. He merely folded his arms and looked bored. She looked so pathetically desperate that I would feel sorry for her if she didn’t pee me off so much. Eventually, Frankie got fed up.
“Ok look, Jess,” He said stubbornly “We’ve had a family crisis, ok? I can’t teach when I’m worried about Gerard, ok?”
“So you’re roommate’s a little sick, so what?”
“My roommate? I think you’ll find he’s my husband. And no he’s not sick. Actually I think you’ll find that he suffers from neurosis related panic disorder which means he can’t handle stress or anxiety very well.”
She tried to stutter out an answer but failed miserably. I smirked at our victory and gladly showed her the door. Frank walked into the living room and collapsed on the sofa, massaging the bridge of his nose. He carefully avoided the bruise across his nose as he did so. I watched him for a moment. He sighed and rubbed at his temple.
“Are you ok?”
“I just have a headache.” He replied.
“D’you want me to get some painkillers?”
“That’d be great.”
So I raided the medicine cabinet for the aspirin and got him a glass of water to swallow them with. He said ‘thank you’ and swallowed two at once. He then stretched his legs out and covered his eyes for a moment.
“Does Dad really have a panic disorder?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?” I questioned curiously.
I always knew Dad panics over certain things but I always thought he was just overreacting. I didn’t realise it was a disorder.
“I don’t really know,” He replied “He never used to when we were kids. It was only really when he got together with Bert. I think it was ‘cause of the constant worrying and stress. He’s never handled stress that great and he used to bottle it up when we were kids. And there was his depression and stuff which didn’t help. I guess with Bert being out and causing all these unwanted memories to come out and posing a threat to him… it’s putting strain on him again…….and it’s all just…uuuurrgh!”
He groaned and throttled mid-air, probably imagining Bert in between his curled fingers. I know I would. It’d be a great therapeutic technique. Like role-playing to switch points of view.
“Sometimes I feel like I can’t do enough for him. Like I can’t help him.”
“That’s stupid!” I insisted as he mentally beat himself up “You give me and Dad everything! And we both love you for it. I can kind of remember what things were like before you came along and they weren’t pleasant. Dad used to sit and cry by himself all the time. You stopped that.”
He smiled gratefully and opened his arms for a hug. I hugged him tightly, trying to be as reassuring as possible. He’s Dad’s support. How can he ever doubt himself of that? Just the looks he gets from Dad everyday should be enough to tell him that he means the world to Dad. Dad said that there should be an international Frankie appreciation day and he’s gonna’ write to the president one day to make the request, even if George Bush is an asshole.
“God, my head!” He groaned, rubbing at his temple.
“Where’s it hurt?” I questioned.
He rubbed at the left side of his head and moaned something about it throbbing.
“That’s a migraine.”
“Mmm…probably.”
“I get them when…..y’know, I’m…y’know…”
“Ok, we don’t need to get biological thank you.”
I returned his weak smile and put an arm round his shoulders.
“You couldn’t close the curtains, could you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
So I closed the curtains for him. He sighed in relief and stretched out on the sofa, still rubbing at his temple. I sat on the other sofa and watched him for a while. Every so often he’d groan and rub at his head.
“You wouldn’t happen to be as good as your Dad at head massages would you?” He joked.
I shrugged.
“I’m gonna’ just try and sleep it off so whatever you’re gonna’ do, do it quietly! And my Mom’s coming over later with your birthday gifts so just wake me up when she gets here.”
“Ok.”
And he said no more, closing his eyes and falling asleep. His eyebrows were crossed as he slept. He looked troubled. I didn’t like it. I like it when he and Dad nap on the couch together with these relaxed little smiles on their faces. It suddenly dawned upon me that the computer was still on, so I went back to talking to Ray while both my parents slept quietly.
Meh? Just a filler
“But I’m paying to be here!”
“I understand that, which is why I won’t charge you anything and we can go back to normal next lesson.”
I sighed heavily, leaning against the doorframe with a hand resting on the side of my head. I’ve been stood here watching Frank try and get rid of Jess for the last five minutes. Of course she protested and tried her best to get the last forty five minutes of her guitar lesson. Or should I say forty five minutes of Frankie?
“But I want my guitar lesson!”
“You sure you don’t want him, Jess?”
“What?!” She demanded, turning to me.
“You want him, don’t you?”
“No!” She protested “He’s old!”
Frank raised his eyebrows at her comment. She immediately realised what she’d said and turned to him desperately while I hid my smirk.
“Oh…no I didn’t mean…..”
“You think he’s ever so gorgeous, don’t you?”
“That’s enough, Elena.” Frank said firmly.
“Whatever.” I shrugged carelessly, lifting a hand in the air.
She turned back to him and continued her desperate begging appeal. He merely folded his arms and looked bored. She looked so pathetically desperate that I would feel sorry for her if she didn’t pee me off so much. Eventually, Frankie got fed up.
“Ok look, Jess,” He said stubbornly “We’ve had a family crisis, ok? I can’t teach when I’m worried about Gerard, ok?”
“So you’re roommate’s a little sick, so what?”
“My roommate? I think you’ll find he’s my husband. And no he’s not sick. Actually I think you’ll find that he suffers from neurosis related panic disorder which means he can’t handle stress or anxiety very well.”
She tried to stutter out an answer but failed miserably. I smirked at our victory and gladly showed her the door. Frank walked into the living room and collapsed on the sofa, massaging the bridge of his nose. He carefully avoided the bruise across his nose as he did so. I watched him for a moment. He sighed and rubbed at his temple.
“Are you ok?”
“I just have a headache.” He replied.
“D’you want me to get some painkillers?”
“That’d be great.”
So I raided the medicine cabinet for the aspirin and got him a glass of water to swallow them with. He said ‘thank you’ and swallowed two at once. He then stretched his legs out and covered his eyes for a moment.
“Does Dad really have a panic disorder?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?” I questioned curiously.
I always knew Dad panics over certain things but I always thought he was just overreacting. I didn’t realise it was a disorder.
“I don’t really know,” He replied “He never used to when we were kids. It was only really when he got together with Bert. I think it was ‘cause of the constant worrying and stress. He’s never handled stress that great and he used to bottle it up when we were kids. And there was his depression and stuff which didn’t help. I guess with Bert being out and causing all these unwanted memories to come out and posing a threat to him… it’s putting strain on him again…….and it’s all just…uuuurrgh!”
He groaned and throttled mid-air, probably imagining Bert in between his curled fingers. I know I would. It’d be a great therapeutic technique. Like role-playing to switch points of view.
“Sometimes I feel like I can’t do enough for him. Like I can’t help him.”
“That’s stupid!” I insisted as he mentally beat himself up “You give me and Dad everything! And we both love you for it. I can kind of remember what things were like before you came along and they weren’t pleasant. Dad used to sit and cry by himself all the time. You stopped that.”
He smiled gratefully and opened his arms for a hug. I hugged him tightly, trying to be as reassuring as possible. He’s Dad’s support. How can he ever doubt himself of that? Just the looks he gets from Dad everyday should be enough to tell him that he means the world to Dad. Dad said that there should be an international Frankie appreciation day and he’s gonna’ write to the president one day to make the request, even if George Bush is an asshole.
“God, my head!” He groaned, rubbing at his temple.
“Where’s it hurt?” I questioned.
He rubbed at the left side of his head and moaned something about it throbbing.
“That’s a migraine.”
“Mmm…probably.”
“I get them when…..y’know, I’m…y’know…”
“Ok, we don’t need to get biological thank you.”
I returned his weak smile and put an arm round his shoulders.
“You couldn’t close the curtains, could you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
So I closed the curtains for him. He sighed in relief and stretched out on the sofa, still rubbing at his temple. I sat on the other sofa and watched him for a while. Every so often he’d groan and rub at his head.
“You wouldn’t happen to be as good as your Dad at head massages would you?” He joked.
I shrugged.
“I’m gonna’ just try and sleep it off so whatever you’re gonna’ do, do it quietly! And my Mom’s coming over later with your birthday gifts so just wake me up when she gets here.”
“Ok.”
And he said no more, closing his eyes and falling asleep. His eyebrows were crossed as he slept. He looked troubled. I didn’t like it. I like it when he and Dad nap on the couch together with these relaxed little smiles on their faces. It suddenly dawned upon me that the computer was still on, so I went back to talking to Ray while both my parents slept quietly.
Meh? Just a filler