It's Classy, Not Classic.

Fortunately time took pity, couldn't verbally describe how greatly fortunate I'd felt, despised having wasted a potentially productive evening, once only halfway through dinner had I finally noticed I'd not put myself on any terms with this woman my father had shoved infront of me from nowhere, wanted to tear myself to pieces as I fully realized I didn't seem to totally hate her, though prided myself in the fact I didn't seem to like her either, still hated her for being almost a complete contradiction of what I'd expected from her, loathed myself for not being bothered so much by her, but kept by my promise to myself to not like her, wasn't acting like it atleast. Fortunately all the same could I say with pure confidence that she still didn't measure up to my mother, not even nearly as good, my mother was an amazing woman, and this woman, this woman was just some chcik my father had picked up from work. I didn't know how he managed it, and I didn't particularly want to know either, didn't even care for that matter -- made me want to puke up my guts at the mere thought still of my father falling in love with any woman that wasn't my mother. Dreaded the very thought of it. Though with Frank sat at my side as I picked at the food on my plate with my fork as Ella attempted to speak to me of something I wasn't even interested in, things were going somewhat smooth. I wasn't lunging at her from over the table with my fork and knife in hand trying to gut her, after all. So, things were going alright. That didn't change the fact that I didn't want to be here, of course.
Feet meeting with concrete, finally at once exitting the seemingly cramped restuarant but only for now, joining Frank in going out for a cigarette after finishing our dinner, turning absentmindedly to neutrally watch as he slipped a pack of cigarettes from one of the pockets of his jacket, flicking a match set, lighting it up before putting the match out, dropping it to the ground, turning his gaze back up at me from the small stick on the floor as he took a drag of the cigarette, inhaling the nicotine before exhaling a cloud of smoke in relief as it stained his lungs and tongue. Sighing, shoving my hands in my pockets, Frank gave me some sort of a knowing look before moving to stand close infront of me, tilting my chin upward when I'd only stared at his chest, brushing a finger against the skin of my cheek soothingly, "Shit'll be alright, doll," He assured me quietly, briefly pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, in which my eyes fluttered momentarily with the want to shut as the kiss warmed my skin, as if naturally calming me, "I promise." He whispered to me, slipping a hand onto the back of my neck, leaning down into me and pressing a kiss to my lips, and with that had I'd given in, eyes shutting as I sighed cold breathe, leaning forward the slightest bit to rest my head against his chest, slightly snuggling into his warmth.
Door opening, familiarity of a voice awoke me from my hazed moment of resting against Franks chest, reluctantly turning my head in their direction, resting still against Franks form, gazing at my father now whose arm was linked comfortabley with Ella's, who I'd noticed was smiling at both Frank and I, thoughts running through her mind that I'm sure had to do with questioning the difference in age, "Kat," My father started, beckoning me over to him, "Could I speak to you alone for a moment?" And I'd sighed, even more reluctantly lifting my weight off of Frank to shuffle along after my father who led me a few feet away from where Ella stood silently with Frank who was now leaning against the wall. And I'd given my father silence as if for encouragement, "I want you to come live back at home with me." He'd stated, stomach falling unpleasently at the thought of not seeing Frank as often as I did now, "I miss you, kid. I miss it just being you and I, and I know you and Frank are happy living together, but you're only fifteen." And I'd sighed only because he had a point, no matter how much I wanted to stay with Frank, "I'm not asking you to come home right away, but... by next weekend I'd like to have you... moved back." He sighed in return, "Ella's not around too often, she won't be bothering, I promise. It's just so lonely without you at home, kiddo."
"Fine." I'd sighed imediately at my father, because there wouldn't be anything I could do about it anyhow, wether I'd said something against it or not, he was my father, and I was still only fifteen, and I'd agreed, even in knowing Frank would have something to say about it, even in knowing Frank would probably be upset. And fortunately in only few ways had my father and Ella said their goodbyes and parted off on their way home only minutes later, turning to Frank who glanced back with a want to know, curiousity at my fathers small discussion with me, and I'd moved in closer against his body leaning against the wall, as he dragged on his shortening cigarette, tapping off some of the ashes to the floor, gracefully exhaling the smoke that descended into the cold air. "Dad wants me to move back home." I'd told him shortly, averting my gaze down at the zipper of his jacket, beginning to play with it absentmindedly as silence came from him. And when he didn't speak, I continued rather hesitantly, "I told him I would." I informed him, quickly continuing afterward as he opened his mouth to speak, eyebrows furrowing in dismay, "I am next weekend though. Frank, I couldn't really say no to him. It doesn't really matter if I want to or not."
"But that means that I'm going to be all alone again." Frank pointed out evidently, a whining tone to his voice, complaining at me in disagreement with the situation, "I don't want you to go, I like having you live with me." And it was nice, of course, living all alone with Frank, was nice to see he sincerely disliked the thought of living without me in the same apartment as him, was heartaching to see how he might actually miss me, which scared me, because I only felt the same. We'd become so attached, so dependant of eachother, and that terrified me.
"Think of it like," I'd started, pondering on a way to put my words, "It'll be better when we get to see eachother, it'll mean more, maybe?" And I'd said it hopefully, gaining a stare from Frank in response before he'd shrugged one of his shoulders, turning his gaze downward as he mumbled some sort of unhappy agreement with my words, in which I'd only sighed right back at him. "Please, don't be like this, Frankie." I droned, whining with a pout plastered to my lips now, and he stared back silently before surrendering in to me, slumping over slightly before I'd cupped his jaw in my hands as he pouted right back at me. Pecking his lips seemingly faded that pout of his, even if only slightly, mind thinking up ways into either getting his mind off of it, or making it good while it lasts and making him feel better about the whole thing in a rather inappropriate way. Of course, I'd decided to combine them all into one, only then deciding on making him feel better with some sort of a seduction. Because hopefully that'd make it easier for me to forget the discomfort of the evening.