the tortured poets department

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“Why would you do that? Why would you run into that building so recklessly?”

”And why do you endlessly murder people and injure yourself everyday? I don’t get how you can ask me something like that and do things that are even more dangerous.”

Frank sighs, avoiding eye contact with Karen. His stance is tense, seemingly walled off in the conversation.

“But you know I do those things. You’ve been knowing. When you do something insanely stupid, how would I know? How would I even know if you got hurt?”

“You’re acting you tell me every single detail — half the time I question if you’re even still breathing! Don’t act like you’re not in the wrong, you barely even check in with me.”

Karen’s eyes have begun to water, avoiding all gazes with Frank as she tries to keep her composure.

“Karen, I would tell you more if it wasn’t so dangerous-“

“Don’t you pull that bullshit with me! You use the same damn excuse every time, saying something will happen to me if you give me details, and I’m tired of it. Anything could happen to me at any point in time, so what’s the reason? Just talking to you could get me skinned alive, Frank. You always say you ‘can’t open up’ but I think you just really don’t want to,” Karen spits out, the underlying shake in her voice becoming increasingly more noticeable as she rubs at her temples.

“Have you seen what’s happened to everyone in my life? They’re dead, Karen. I don’t know how many times I will have to explain this to you, but they’re gone because of what I did. I can’t let you die, I can’t let you get hurt because of me. Can you understand that? Please, just once, understand why I have to keep my actions a secret. I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t.”

Frank is practically pleading, his voice softening as his anger turns to concern; hurt.

“I know what happened, Frank. I am just tired of always being the one who has to tell you everything when I can’t even get that same courtesy in return. You don’t need to know my every move, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Karen. That’s not what I was saying.”

“Then what are you saying? Because it sounds a whole lot like you’re trying to be some type of watcher over me at all times. I don’t need your protection, I can handle things for myself. I got by just fine without you before you came into my life, what makes you think I can’t function without you knowing my every location? You know I carry a gun, you know I’m not some damsel in distress, then why don’t you treat me like that? Why do you even care?”

“Because I love you.”

The room falls silent, Karen’s face reflecting a mix of confusion and anger, pure surprise in her expression.

“Frank,” Karen whispers, closing the space between them as she pulls Frank closer, trying to anchor him back when she can see him slipping.

“I can’t,” Frank says under his breath, his eyes locking with Karen’s.

“Why not?”

Their lips collide, the kiss full of passion as Frank’s hands run along Karen’s waist. Taking Frank’s face in her palms, Karen kisses ever so deeply, a gentle feel between them. The angst between them, the yearning, is reflected in their body language, the kiss seeming to almost beg for more, beg to be deepened, beg to be continued.

“I’m sorry Karen I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t apologize, I love you.”

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