Just a Shadow In The Night (Mikey Way/OC)

I opened my eyes to bright rays of sunlight and a splitting headache. I was curled up at the end in a blanket and I felt warm. Not the pleasant kind of warm, but the gross and sticky kind of warm. Not only that, but I also felt kind of queasy.
With my eyes still closed, I slowly sat up, trying to think of anything other than being sick. I wiped a hand over my forehead to find that I was sweating. While taking deep breaths, I opened one eye, then the other. I saw that I wasn’t the only one in the room. Frank lay sleeping on the couch opposite me. I’m not quite sure what happened last night, but the headache and sick feeling in my stomach reminded me of the alcohol involved.
If Frank is here… then where the hell are Mikey and Gerard? I looked around for some kind of hint and my eyes landed on a note on the coffee table beside a glass of water and some medicine. The note said:

“Emilia,
Gerard and I are out for a while. We left Frank to look after you while we’re gone. I thought you might be a bit hung over, the medicine might help. The pills help with headaches and the tablet helps with the sick feeling. Help yourself to the food, and don’t be shy. We’ll be back around 3. Only answer the door if it’s us, Ray or Bob.
-Mikey”

“That’s just fantastic. They left me here with sleeping beauty… or should I say sleeping psycho.” I thought to myself. I put the tablet into my mouth and waited for it to dissolve. It tasted like mint, but left a gross aftertaste. It did help settle my stomach, and I swallowed the remaining pills. I know it’s a bit odd to be taking pills that your… uh… ‘Kidnappers’ left for you, but they’re only trying to help… I think. But that doesn’t matter right now… what matter is that I’m here, alone, with Frank.
Maybe if I be quiet, he’ll stay asleep… here’s hoping.
I held onto the glass and stood up slowly. My nausea was almost gone, but I made sure to walk while holding my stomach just to be sure. I looked at the clock… it was only 11, what will I do with myself until 3?
I poured the rest of the water down the drain, then washed and put away the glass. I rested one arm on the counter, and brainstormed ideas of what to do today. But after a couple of minutes with no ideas I figured maybe I could think of things in the shower.
I gathered my skirt, my underwear and a tank top and sweater then I locked myself in the bathroom. I hopped into the shower and examined the bruises and cuts. They’re getting better, but it’ll take a little more time. I can’t remember what happened last night, and I don’t think I care to know. I’ll be surprised if anybody remembers. I washed my hair and looked to the ledge beside me to see a brand new razor with a sticky note attached to it. It read ‘For Emilia, from Gerard.’ I smiled at his thoughtfulness, I hated not shaving. I used the razor and stepped out of the shower. I dried myself off and got dressed quickly, in case Frank woke up. I towel dried my thin hair and put it into two braids on either side of my head.
Satisfied with my natural appearance, I slowly unlocked the door and checked on Frank. He was still sound asleep and wrapped up tightly in the blanket. I saw the TV was still on, so I tiptoed over and turned it off. I still haven’t thought of anything to do, so I may as well make my ‘bed.’
I walked quickly over to Mikey’s bedroom and made my bed quickly. Mikey’s bed wasn’t made so I thought I’d make his as well. As I placed the pillows in their right place, I suddenly remembered my painting supplies. My easel is still waiting to be set up. I have something to do today.
After setting up my easel in front of Mikey’s bedroom window, I started to paint. It was yet another rainy autumn day, and it was rather windy. It created gusts of red, orange and yellow leaves to float past the window. Maybe that gave me inspiration, or perhaps I couldn’t think of anything else. Sitting on the edge of Mikey’s bed, I began painting a tree branch at the upper left corner of a small canvas that Bob packed into the suitcase. I got up to get a glass of water and make some coffee.
I poured water into a plastic cup I found behind all the glasses and I poured myself some coffee. I walked back into the bedroom and continued the painting. As I was painting on some orange leaves, I heard footsteps heading towards the bathroom. I assume Frank’s awake and he’ll probably want something from me. I have to remember that he isn’t my friend. None of these guys are my friends.
I continued painting until I heard some more footsteps around the house. The footsteps continue for a while until they sounded like they were at the door. I don’t turn and face him, or acknowledge he was there. I continued painting, now using my thinnest brush to paint the veins on the leaves. I look outside for reference every couple of minutes and I’d see his reflection in the window. Almost as if he was waiting for me to look at him, our eyes meet the second time I looked. He takes this as permission to come closer and I feel him sit on the other edge of Mikey’s bed. He’s looking at my work, and I don’t know if I should talk to him or not. What would I say?
“Hey, how are you feeling?... Oh yeah, I’m fine, just enjoying being kidnapped and all. Any idea as to why they’re keeping me here? … No? You’re not allowed to talk about it? That’s cool. I’ll just live here and be constantly fearing for my life.” I think about asking. I wouldn’t dare say anything like that to him… or to any of them. What would his answer be? My guess is somewhere along the lines of “I just thought I’d help my ‘buddies’ kidnap an underage girl for fun, I thought that might spice up our lives a little bit.” I giggle at the thought. Frank noticed that I stopped painting and started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, tilting his head and folding his locking his hands together. I thought of telling him the truth, but that wouldn’t have a good outcome.
“Oh, nothing.” I sighed, looking at him through the reflection.
“You sure?” he pressed, locking eyes with me.
“Yeah, yeah” I said as I got back to my painting. A part of me wanted him to talk to me, for him to get to know me better, for him to stop making me scared. Another part of me wanted him to stay away from me at all times. I have no idea what’s going on in his head. If he’s looking after me, it’s not like we can avoid each other this whole time.
I sigh quietly and try to concentrate on the painting. The leaves are almost done, but I’m going to paint the ocean behind it. It won’t be a colourful ocean; it might take away from the leaves. Instead, I’ll paint a grey sea.
“How long have you been painting in here?” Frank asks after a couple more minutes of watching me.
“It depends, what time is it?” I ask as I take a sip from my lukewarm coffee. I feel the bed move a little bit.
“A little bit after one thirty” he says, looking down at his phone.
“In that case, it’s been an hour and a half or so.”
“It looks nice” he comments.
“Thanks” The room get quiet again, and I have an odd urge to keep talking to him. I want to know about him. He’s a stranger to me and I don’t like it. I’m not sure if he’s into art. He could be into movies… or music. He has a lot of tattoos; maybe I could get some stories out of those.
“Tell me about your tattoos.” I say. It’s not an order, but more of a suggestion. I look at his reflection and catch him smiling.
“Okay well… My um… knuckles have the word Halloween tattooed on them because my birthday is October 31st... And I really like scary stuff.” He stops to chuckle and continues. “When’s your birthday?”
“April 13th” I say as I dip the paintbrush into the glass of water.
“Has your birthday ever landed on a Friday?” He asks. It’s a stupid question because I’m seventeen but I answer anyway.
“Twice, the next time will be on my 19th birthday.” I say, mixing the colours to make a light shade of grey. I feel the bed move again, and I wasn’t sure what he was doing but he moved across the bed and sat next to me.
“Wait, wait, wait. H-hold up. How old are you?” He asked in a rush of confusion, stumbling on his words.
“Seventeen. How old are you?”
“Twenty one…” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head. He was quick to change the subject. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
I applied even brushstrokes to the ocean and thought of anything that could have happened. My mind was completely blank.

“Nope. Do you?” I asked, not taking my eyes away from the canvas. I didn’t really care to know the answer, as long as I don’t end up pregnant, that’s all I care about.
“Sort of, do you care to know?” He could tell I didn’t really care. I figure I’d tell him the truth.
“Not really, no. Do you remember if I hooked up with anyone?” I was being serious but I couldn’t help but to smirk as I asked.
“You didn’t.”
“Alright, that’s all I care about.” I laughed, Frank was eager to change the subject again.
“Do you know what to paint next?” he asked.
“Nah. I just sit down and wait for inspiration to come. Do you have any suggestions?”
I saw him nod eagerly out of the corner of my eye.
“A puppy!” he exclaimed with the happiest look on his face. I couldn’t say no to him, he’s like a 5 year old.
“What kind of puppy?” I asked. I could see him thinking. He looked deep in thought as if I asked him a difficult math question.
“Mmm… A Pug!” He shouted, clasping his hands together.
“I’ll get started on that as soon as I finish this one.”
“Can I stay here until it’s done?” He asked. I don’t why he’s being so friendly; he looked like he wanted to kill me yesterday. I don’t understand. Come to think of it, everyone’s been nice to me. I’m so confused.
“Yeah, sure.” I said, smiling at him.

Notes

I have no idea where this is going anymore, I didnt even plan anything out, I'm sorry for being late in updating. I need to get some time lapses in here. Anyway, thanks again. :)