BoarderLine**Frerard**

.3.

//kinda a trigger warning but kinda not?//

I sighed with my head on the cold tiles of the walls. I looked to my left at the mirror. A dead faced boy with sticking black hair looked back at me. I rolled my eyes and looked down at the toilet. Clear substance stuck at the rim and under the seat. With a small groan, I pushed off of the tile with my forehead and grabbed some toilet paper to clean the mess. Relief seeped through my body as I jumped back on the couch. All stress and heat gone. No weird dreams coming back to haunt me. A good time for me of course. Sweet Pea had a look that could kill on her small puppy face. I rubbed my neck and held my other hand to her. She didn't budge from her grudge.

"Suit yourself." I whistled and started cleaning up the mess I left when I fell asleep. My eyes trailed to the clock on the TV. 4:15 am, I only got what, two hours of sleep? I rubbed my face while clicking the DVD in its case. TV shut off, bowl in the sink, I recapped everything before turning off the light. I tapped my temple, night vision on. Again I rescanned the room in case of something out of place that could indicate I was even alive at 2am. When I saw the room was put back together, I dragged my feet to the back of the apartment to my bedroom. That place was always the darkest and coldest place in the house. It's like a vampire cave, maybe I am a vampire with how much I don't go outside in the day. I tugged on some socks before crawling in bed. I heard the clatter of small feet racing to my room. Smiling, I patted the bed. The mattress caved in and a small bundle curled next to me. "Night Pea." I rubbed her head and tapped my temple again. Darkness flooded my vision, I shifted to my side with a grunt. No sleepiness came to me. Instead I looked at the dark walls with my mind running. Whirling with thoughts. Blush worthy, heat building, imagines were flying restlessly in my mind. I ran tired fingers through my hair.

"Out of all the people to get hots for, why this asshole? Do I even like him though?" I rambled quietly about my feelings for Poison Striker. The guy could be nice if I got to know him but, do I really want to know him? We're supposed to be enemies. I'm the supervillain. He's my superhero. My worst enemy, the guy I have nightmares about. Not petty fantasies. Finally my eyes were growing drowsy again and my brain started numbing. My small blabber ceased. I pinched the bridge of my nose before closing my eyes and letting my arm drape over them. Again, my mind returned to the land of dreams.

Funny big eyes, with little small mirrors inside. Like kaleidoscopes. I squinted to see a pair of goggles looking down at me. A big bush of brown curly hair puffed from the top of his head. A big lipped grin showed under the goggles. I smiled.

"Hey Kaleido," I joked. In my head, I was screaming. "What's up?" His features turned. Completely flipped. His hand shot out and grabbed my throat. I didn't feel it but panic rose in my lungs, vibrating through my esophagus. My heart beat fluttered like a trapped bird and I flailed my arms at him. His grin curled up into a nasty snarl. I flinched.

"Hey, Frankie," He spat my name. I looked down immediately. Regular band tee shirt with ripped jeans and converse. I felt my face, it's my face. Not my mask. I panicked again and tried to push him away. His grip tightened, I saw his knuckles whiten. I felt myself gasp for air, even though everything is perfectly fine. "Why don't you stay away from Poison?" He growled menacingly, I nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I will, just let me go okay?" I clawed at his wrist. His lips pouted.

"But, I love seeing you like this," his face inched closer, "Frankie." I looked away and bit my lip hard. No, no, no, no, no, mm no. My heartbeat was still racing when I felt his opposite hand brush my cheek. His finger twirled a loose piece of hair. "Python is mine, Frankie you're the bad guy. You're not allowed to have Poison. And besides, punishment is what you need." His goggles' mirrors twisted in its kaleidoscope way. Heat was rising in my face from lack of air. Yet really, I do have air. Dreams are fucking weird. I coughed and sputtered at him.