Um, well. That wasn't a very long time before I started on a new story. In my defense, I've had this one planned for a few weeks, and I've just been waiting for a good time to start working on it. It's another supernatural story, with ghosts and mediums this time, which is something I've never worked with before, so I'm hoping this goes well. I hope you guys enjoy it, though!

My fingers desperately clung at the sheets, the spiking pain coursing through my lower body, Frankie's jagged nails slicing into the skin on my shoulders. The bed squeaked with every thrust from him, slowly quieting while he let out loud moans and "oh, god"s, getting close to his climax, and when he finally came inside of me, he did his usual routine of exhaling loudly while he slumped over and pulled out of me, falling beside me. There was still pressure built in my lower stomach, begging for release, but I knew, from the tired look in Frankie's eyes, that wasn't going to happen.

I'd take care of myself later if I was still horny, which I probably wasn't going to be. Truthfully, I wasn't really all that horny when Frankie initiated sex, but I went along with it, figuring it'd make him happy. I guess it did, but he didn't tell me if so, which was really goddamn irritating. But that was his personality, so I let it slide.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" my boyfriend grumbled, half of his face buried in my pillows. His blue eyes were glazed over, tired, and the flush on his cheeks shone brightly, despite his sun kissed skin. When I strung my fingers through his curly blond hair, he groaned, burying his face into the pillow. "Careful not to pull any knots," he mumbled, making me remove my hand from his locks.

Exhaling through my nose, I sat up in bed, bringing my legs to my chest and resting my elbows on my knees. "Can you give me a blowjob to finish me off?" I asked softly, the pressure in my groin starting to turn into pain. I was blue balled, which wasn't too uncommon with Frankie, but he thought it made me want him more, which was further from the truth. It pissed me off and left me frustrated, annoyed that he apparently couldn't last long enough to get me to climax.

Sitting on his knees, Frankie let out an exasperated sigh. "You know my gag reflex is really bad," he grumbled, giving me those sad eyes of his. He knew I was weak to that look, which he abused, but, again, I let it go. "I'll give you a hand job. Don't take forever, though, because my arm gets tired." It would have been funny if he wasn't serious. "Lie down, babe."

Shaking my head, already getting soft, I turned and put my feet on the floor, stretching to pop my back. "It's alright. We can do a rain check." Rubbing my eyes with the balls of my hands, I reached for my briefs and slipped them back on, then stood up, hand on my hip. "Wanna go see a movie or something? We haven't gone out any in over a week, you know." It was hard not to keep track of our dates because it was the only time Frankie really treated me well, and I liked that, more than I ever wanted to tell him.

Shrugging, he stood up and retrieved his clothes. "Yeah, we can do that. I'll buy dinner if you buy the movie tickets?" he suggested, tugging on his shirt. It stretched a little over his muscles, though he wasn't ripped, which I preferred. I was small enough as it was; I didn't need to be overshadowed by a beast of a man.

"Sounds fair enough," I remarked, zipping up my jeans. I grabbed a new shirt, one better suited for a date than a worn out Rolling Stones tee shirt. "We'll not stay out too late since you have work in the morning." He was never able to spend the night with me since his office opened at eight, and he had to be in at seven-thirty. He was the one who suggested it so that I didn't wake up when he left since I didn't have to wake up until ten for my job as a magazine editor, and I thought that was pretty sweet of him, even though spending the night together would have been nice. "Can you please stay over this weekend, though?" I begged, now placing my hands on his chest, attempting to look desperate.

He scoffed, a fragment of a smile on his face, then brushed my brown hair from my eyes. "Maybe. If there's no papers I need to handle. Michael has me pretty slammed since we just hired four more people, and they have a lot of paperwork that needs to be put into the system," he explained. He had a regular desk job at a billing company, and he hated it, but had been there for so long that he didn't want to quit. The money was pretty okay, though, especially for someone who had dropped out of college. Frankie wasn't too terribly intelligent, but he was whimsical and had a good perspective on life, which kept both of us reasonably upbeat.

"Make sure to get it all done, though, because I really want the weekend together. I don't get a lot of them off, you know, and I was thinking we could go to the beach Friday evening, stay in a hotel, maybe check out some of the local scenery, and get away for a few days," I purred, walking my middle and index fingers up his chest and to his neck, balling some of his hair into my fist. "Would you like that?"

Kissing my forehead, Frankie smirked. "We'll see, Keegan. If I'm busy with work, you can't get mad at me. How else am I supposed to pay for all of these dates you want to go on?" Unwinding my hand from his hair, he took both of my hands in his, stroking the backs of my hands with his thumbs. "I love you, and there's nothing more I'd love to do than spend the weekend with you, but it all depends on my job."

Rolling my eyes and jerking my hands away from his, I started towards my bedroom door. "I know," I grumbled, grabbing my wallet and keys from my coffee table. Frankie followed behind me, and I could feel his eyes piercing my back, and when I felt his hand on my shoulder, ready to stop me or spin me around, I felt bad for walking away so angrily from him. "I didn't mean to get so mad at you, but we never get any time off together, and I'd really like to sometime," I grumbled, looking at the floor, my eyebrows furrowed.

"I know you're upset, and I can understand why. At least we have tonight, though," he whispered, his lips touching my forehead and his hand cupping my chin. "Kiss me?"

Obliging with a grin, I tipped my head up until our lips met, his mouth hungrily covering mine, and his hands went down to my waist, pulling my closer to him, knowing I loved when he did that. It was always nice when he showed me such an intimate display, like he did appreciate me. When he pulled back and our foreheads touched, I laughed breathlessly, his arms still around me. As he went for another kiss, we were interrupted by a loud bang, coming from the apartment above us. Both of our heads snapped up, waiting for another noise, and when a series of bangs began, Frankie scowled.

"I didn't know someone lived above you," he muttered, and I recognized that annoyed look on his face, the same one he used on me somewhat frequently.

Shrugging, I started for the front door, not wanting to make anything of it because I knew how he'd react if the banging continued. "This is the first noise I've heard from up there," I told him, my attention still pointed at the ceiling, listening to the loud thuds, sounding off like a hammer or someone consistently dropping things. "Don't worry about it, baby. It'll stop when we're out." But we both still stood there, our eyes glued to the area where the sound was coming from, stopping for a moment, then continuing again for another minute or two, then stopping, then starting.

The cycle repeated for about five minutes before Frankie let out an annoyed groan. "I'm going to go tell whoever the hell it is to knock it off," he exclaimed, and I was thankful that I was standing in front of the door so that he couldn't get past me. He had a bad tantrum, usually when it came to me since he knew I was picked on for my smaller stature and unwillingness to stand up for myself, always having been taught to ignore my problems and move on.

"Frankie, seriously, the noise will be gone when we get back," I pressed, my voice calming, like I was talking to an angry cat, which was essentially how Frankie acted when he was bothered. "Let's go before any restaurants get too crowded. We don't know where we're going yet, either, so we can have time to think about in the car." I pleaded silently with my eyes, hoping he would move on and forget about it. It wasn't a big deal since we'd be leaving, and he looked resolved when he caught the upset look in my face.

Pushing his hair from his forehead, he sighed. "Lemme just make sure he'll be done whenever we get back here," he asked, and his voice was so calm, and it was unnerving since he was so pissed only moments ago. Although it was a worrisome attitude change, I accepted it and opened my door.

"Fine, but please be civil with them," I asked, my voice as stern as it could be. The last thing I wanted was him yelling at my neighbor, someone I didn't know existed until a few minutes earlier. Hopefully Frankie wouldn't say anything to make him mad and keep slamming things into the floor.

We ascended the steps to the second floor of my building, down to apartment 204, above mine. Frankie balled his hand into a fist, pounding on the door, and when I shot him a dirty glare, he returned it, making me look away, knowing that he was more threating than I was. From within the apartment, we were still able to hear the pounding, but it ceased after another minute, then the sound of shuffling feet came, making their way to the door. The sound of the lock unlatching was followed by the click of the door handle, then the squeak of the actual door, the same way mine squealed upon opening.

"Can I help you?" The voice belonged to that of a guy taller than Frankie, making him about six feet. His dark brown eyes looked between Frankie and me, my nervous look contrasting sharply with Frankie's irritated expression. When the tenant saw the look on Frankie's face, he seemed to know what was going on. "You're the people who live below me," he stated, and suddenly his eyes got wide. "I'm so sorry about the banging. I, uh, got some new floor, and I was in the middle of installing it. I'm really sorry about that." His voice was quiet, kind of monotonous, like he hadn't slept in a few days, and from the dark bags beneath his eyes and his ivory skin, it was likely he didn't get any sleep.

"Yeah, if you could hurry it up, too, that'd be great. It's really loud and obnoxious," Frankie barked, his voice anything but relaxed. "Why didn't you ask if we were home or anything before you start a stupid project like putting down new floor? Couldn't you do this some other time, like not at eight in the goddamn evening?"

"Frankie," I scolded, wanting to leave. I was feeling uncomfortable, and I was sure my neighbor was, too, though he didn't show it. "It isn't a big deal. Come on, please." He wouldn't budge, though, regardless if I was tugging on his arm to get him to leave. Silently, I apologized with my eyes, which the guy caught and acknowledged with a slight nod of his head.

"No, Keegan, stop being a little bitch," Frankie hissed, trying to keep his voice low now that he was talking to me. "If you don't talk to him now, he'll take advantage of you being too nice." He narrowed his eyes at me, then looked back at the guy. "We'll be gone for a few hours, so you better have everything done by then, or I'll be back up here later, even more pissed off. Got me?" His northern accent was shining through, and it wasn't attractive with how he was using it.

"It'll be done in about an hour. I apologize for the noise, and I honestly didn't know someone lived below me," the guy apologized, and he looked genuinely upset, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth in a little pout. "I'll know for future reference, though."

"Good," Frankie snapped, leaving not much else to say. Without any more thought, he spun, took my hand, and stomped down the stairs, leaving me with a sick feeling the pit of my stomach, suddenly miffed with the interaction we had with the quiet boy. He didn't deserve to be torn apart, but Frankie thought it was best to do, and, like always, I was too passive to argue, so, like always, I let it slide.

I needed to quit doing that.


Having quiet dinners always bothered me. I was raised in the South, and we never had quiet meals, especially when my grandparents were around. But apparently, Frankie didn't have a family like mine because the silence between us didn't appear to be bothering him while he ate his chicken wrap. All the while, I sat there, elbow propped on the table, chin in my hand, staring disbelievingly at him with my eyebrow cocked and my lips drawn into a thin line. He knew it was my pissed off look, but ignored it.

"I really like the food here. Why don't we eat here more?" he asked after swallowing a large mouthful of food. He was referring to the small café we were sitting in, down the road from the movie theater we had just came from.

"You're usually working," I mumbled, picking up my fork with my free hand, prodding at the chicken salad I had sitting in front of me. I didn't have much of an appetite, but knew I needed to eat something since I hadn't gone grocery shopping quite yet and only had a few things to eat back at my apartment.

Setting down his food and exhaling sharply, Frankie tipped his head and stared at me, his eyebrows drawn into an angry line. "Are you still mad at me?" Leaning forward, so that only the two of us could hear what he was saying, he leered at me, narrowed eyes stuck to my face. "I was standing up for you because that guy wasn't being considerate, but you're mad at me?"

My fingers threaded through my hair, snagging a few strands, which I quickly let flow to the ground. "I'm not mad about that, Frankie, I'm mad because you could've been nicer about it. I'm used to you being an ass to me, but when you act like a dick to a total stranger, that's where I draw the line." Though I probably should have drawn it at him being like that to me. "I think you need to apologize to him. He wasn't doing anything, and I think you overreacted." Like usual. He fulfilled the angry New Yorker stereotype.

"Maybe if you learned to grow a pair, then I wouldn't have had to yell at him. This isn't just my fault." He extended his arms, reaching out for mine, giving me a moment to set my fork down before letting my hands settle in his. "Babe, I know you're mad. I'm sorry. I snapped because I knew you weren't going to do anything about it, and I don't want another case of someone taking advantage of you. I love you, Kee, and I've seen you hurt too many times to let someone else do that to you." He kissed the knuckles of my right hand, peering at me from beneath his eyelashes.

It was hard to resist him when he acted like this. Sighing, I pulled my hands away and scooted my seat out from beneath the table. "Come on, let's go back to my place," I mumbled, standing up. He knew that if he played the right cards with me, I would invite him back to my place. I was putty in his hands, like a teenage girl getting a boyfriend for the first time. Granted, he was my first boyfriend since high school, but that was completely my fault.

While we were walking out of the café, a couple stumbled out of the bar next door, holding on to each other, whooping and laughing, trading kisses, drunk on life and alcohol. When they walked past me and Frankie, I smelled the beer on them, the odor pouring off of them like perfume. A lump formed in my throat when I thought about the golden liquid, and Frankie knew the thirsty look in my eyes.

Slipping his arm around my back, he started leading me to his car. "Kee, sweetie, come on," he urged, and while I tried to stay focused on his car parked in the little lot across the street, my eyes kept trailing over to the bar, loud music spilling out from behind the door that was now being held open by a woman yelling at another lady. "We'll be out of here in a minute," Frankie murmured, helping me into my seat. As promised, we were down the road in a few moments, the sounds of the bar and the smell of the beer out of my system. "You've been doing well," he commented after a few speechless minutes.

Resting my head on the warm window of the car, I shrugged. "I guess so," I responded, not paying much attention to where we were going or what was being said. My head was spinning and my mouth was dry, nothing uncommon when I had my cravings.

Noticing that I wasn't okay, Frankie put one of his hands on my thigh while the other hand steered the car. "Tell me why you want me to come over," he pushed, knowing it would distract me. When my hand covered his, I heard him laugh through his nose. "Do you want me to be naked when we walk through your door? Do you think you could last getting to the bedroom, or should we stop at the couch?" His voice was so even and warm, and I loved how tempting he sounded. I didn't want to tell him that I only wanted to cuddle, though, that I wasn't in the mood for sex.

It was about eleven-thirty when we got back to my place, and when we entered, it was silent, which made Frankie grin. "I'm glad he finished his job. Guess the message got across." He sounded pleased with himself, crossing his arms over his chest and looking up at my ceiling, daring it to make any type of sound. When nothing happened, he exhaled loudly, satisfied, and plopped down on my couch, beckoning me over, patting the spot beside him. "I can't stay for too long, Kee. I have to get back home and get some rest."

Shrugging with one shoulder, I rested my head on his shoulder and grabbed one of his hands with both of my own. "Come over tomorrow and I'll make us dinner. Friday, too, so if you can't spend the night, we can still eat with each other." My voice was soft, tired, and as much as I would have loved for him to stay longer, both of us needed to go to bed soon. "Want me to walk you down to your car?" I offered while both of us sat there wordlessly.

"Nah. I'd rather know you're in here, safe and sound." Getting to his feet, Frankie helped pull me up into a tight hug, one hand on the back of my head, his fingers strung through my hair. He kissed my forehead and left trails of kisses along my face, teasing me before he was able to put his lips to mine. "I'll come by for dinner tomorrow. Want to say seven?" he asked, and I felt his breath ghosting across my mouth.

"Eight, so I can go grocery shopping and cook," I explained softly, my eyes meeting his. I closed the space between us urgently, and he hungrily kissed me. "I love you," I breathed after he pulled away. "Text me when you get in so I know you're safe." With another kiss, I followed him to my door, bidding each other goodnight before he left me alone. I watched him through my window to make sure he safely got to his car, and when his left the parking lot, I spun around and headed to my bedroom, not taking off my shoes before I decided to fall onto my bed, exhausted.

I wanted Frankie back because, despite me being angry with him, my want to be held and comforted was more overpowering. Besides, I was going to go over the next day and apologize to the guy above me, still sort of feeling bad about him being in so much trouble with Frankie. I'd get over it, no problem.

Deciding that I was too tired to do anything else, I got ready for bed, plugging my phone into its charger and checking my alarm for the next morning. When I was about to fall asleep, Frankie finally texted me, alerting me that he was home, and I was able to relax a bit more after that. He only lived fifteen minutes away, but it felt like forever when he was driving by himself, at night especially. I was able to fall asleep a few minutes after telling him goodnight again.

Trudging through work the next was miserable. My mouth was still dry from my craving that I wasn't able to extinguish, and I was still anxious about having Frankie hold me when he came over that night. My boss, Annie, noticed something was wrong when she came over to my desk, and I was sitting there, pencil between my index finger and thumb, tapping it absentmindedly while I stared at my computer screen at the article I was supposed to be touching up.

"Keegan," she called, setting her hand down on my desk in a not-so-quiet manner. When she had my attention, she leaned against the desk, her eyebrows raised and her red painted lips drawn into a line. "How are you feeling today? You look out of it. Everything going okay? Home life good?" She was the mother hen of the office, though she was only thirty-three, ten years my senior. She had her own two kids, both of them under the age of six, which I guess translated to her making sure everyone in the office was perfectly fine.

Setting the pencil down, I looked up at her, flashing a quick smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Spacy. I had a late dinner last night, so my schedule got a little messed up. I'll be okay, though," I swore, and there was a rush of relief on her face. She let me go back to work with a pat on my back, and I tried to power through the rest of my day.

I left immediately for the grocery store when I left work that evening. I had forgotten to make a list, which I normally did because I needed some kind of organization, so I had to go down all of the aisles to make sure I wasn't going to forget anything.

While I was in the pasta and rice section, grabbing a bag of jasmine rice for one of my dinners, a familiar face and almost too-recognizable silver head of hair turned the corner, pushing a buggy that only had a few vegetables in it. When the brown eyes met mine, I saw him panic, and he tried to quickly walk past me, probably forgetting to grab what he needed to in his efforts to get out of my sight.

"Hey, hang on," I called out timidly. I knew who he was, recognizing him as my upstairs neighbor, but I was afraid that he would be too nervous to talk to me because of our last encounter. It surprised me when he stopped his hurried walking and turned his head to look back at me, standing about ten feet away. A woman and her kids walked between us with her shopping cart, and I abandoned mine to stand closer to my neighbor. "Obviously you remember me," I started, a dull laugh following my words. "I wanted to apologize on behalf of my boyfriend, Frankie. Sometimes he can be really outspoken and not think about what he says. I swear he's not always like that. We're not mean people."

There was a faint smile on his mouth. "That's…really good to hear. I'm so sorry about the banging. Um, I had….I was painting and accidentally knocked the paint can onto the floor, and there was no way I could clean it up without it staining the floorboards." His face suddenly twisted into something that resembled nervousness, and he glanced into his shopping cart to look at his groceries. "Usually, I'm pretty silent, but last night was an exception. Sorry we had to meet under such crappy terms." He added another dainty smile, barely meeting his eyes. It was odd seeing someone his height act so timidly.

"No, it's really not a big deal. I felt bad that Frankie went off on you like that, though, and I was going to come over and apologize after getting home from grocery shopping, but this works out." Giving him a genuine smile made both of us ease up a bit. "But, I have to finish my shopping, and it looks like you do too. Uh, if you ever need anything or want to hang out, you know where I live." It was such a stupid line, but it seemed friendly enough. I didn't want him to think I was a bad guy.

Before I started back to my own basket, he stopped me again. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Olly." He tipped his head the smallest bit. "Your boyfriend called you Keegan?"

Nodding once, I went to my basket, putting my hands on the bar, ready to push it. "Yeah, it's Keegan. It's nice meeting you, Olly."

"You, too, Keegan. Um, I'll see you around." With a quick wave, he finished going down the aisle, never grabbing anything from the shelves.

For the remainder of my grocery store trip, I tried avoiding him because it was always horribly awkward running into someone after you've told them good bye. I'd spot him every once and while, but always got away before I risked him seeing me. I felt a little better now that everything was cleared up, making it easier for me to decide that chicken and rice sounded absolutely wonderful for dinner that night. It was an hour and half before Frankie was supposed to be over, and my excitement was swelling much more than it was the night before.