malsuit diva

Day 20: Stargazing

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suggested listening

Mel shifts in the grass, now lying on her side to face Frank. He’s still looking at the vast sky above them. Its splendor is so clearly mirrored in his blue eyes. Twinkling, glowing, endless. She wants to stay in this quiet moment for as long as possible. Just the two of them and the hum of the valley around them, teeming with all sorts of wildlife.

Like a soundtrack to a July she’ll never forget.

“You know, my Mom used to take Becca and me here when I was little. I used to bring this big book of constellations with me, and we’d read the stories of all the ones we could find in the sky,” she admits softly. The Cherry Spring State Park holds some of her dearest memories of her mother.

Frank immediately turns.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve gone somewhere new.” 

Mel shakes her head no and takes Frank’s hand. She laces their fingers together and swears she can feel his heartbeat in his palm. 

“This place is sacred to me and, well, it makes me happy to know it’s sacred for you too. I bet that’s why you wanted to take me here in the first place, yes?” Mel’s appreciative of the way Frank swallows and nods in agreement, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. 

“You know me too well,” he chuckles in that boyish way that makes Mel’s heart swell—eyes bashfully cast downward with the smallest smile.

If she were braver, she’d pull him in for a kiss. 

Instead, she asks, “Do you want to know what constellations are out tonight?” It’s not a kiss, but her own form of intimacy.

“Of course I do,” he says eagerly, “tell me about every single one.” 

And as she recounts the tales of every star and constellation within the northern cross, time stands still like a photograph, as if this moment would last forever, just like she wanted. And looking into his eyes, she sees the rest of their life together. Laid out as clearly as the stars above them.

Day 19: Heel(s)

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Frank’s bare knees were raw against the hardwood floor. His muscles ached and tingled all the way down to his toes, threatening to fall asleep from being folded for so long. If he were to stand, he’d definitely topple over again. Despite this discomfort, he obediently waited for Mel’s next command.

Day 18: Parade

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If there’s an opportunity for Frank to spend uninterrupted time with Mel, he will always take it. So when he sees her name on the volunteer list to aid the EMS at the annual Anthrocon Parade, he immediately signs up.

How bad could it be? All they’ll have to do is stand by the ambulance and make sure no one in one of those crazy mascot costumes passes out from heat stroke.

“Should we wear animal ears in solidarity?” Frank asks her with a smirk and eyebrow waggle when he informs her he’ll be her volunteer buddy.

Mel blushes and giggles along with him.

“I was actually thinking about wearing this pair of bunny ears Becca got at the Renaissance Faire the last time we went. There was this booth selling all kinds of ears and horns, and she collects—“

Frank knows Mel is rattling a story off about how her sister acquired the ears, but he can only hear static. All his brain can process is the image of Mel, looking cute as ever, wearing a pair of fluffy bunny ears.

“Are you okay, Frank?” Mel asks, narrowing her eyes and waving a hand in front of his face.

Frank blinks and shivers, shaking himself out of his daydream of bunny girl Mel.

“Uh, yeah, I’m all ears—I mean, good! I’m all good!” He stumbles on his words in a way that makes Mel giggle again.

“I see, you don’t want to be left out. Don’t worry, I’ll see if Becca will let you borrow a pair.”

So true to her word, two weeks later, they survey the parade from the sidelines. Ready to leap into action in case of an emergency, clad in grey bunny ears for Mel and fox ears for Frank.

Day 17: Crowd

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When Mel steps out onto the stage, the crowd erupts in applause. She makes a b-line to the podium and grasps its sides tight as if it were life-raft. There’s a part of her that wishes they would all stop clapping. She is just presenting her portion of the research, nothing too extraordinary. If anything, the clapping only serves to deepen the pit in her stomach.

Relax, you’re going to be fine, Frank’s soothing voice whispers in her memory.

Mel swallows and tries to search for his familiar face. The lights are far too bright to see anyone in the crowd, and the glare coming from her glasses further distorts her already wavering vision.

“Uhm…” Sharp feedback from the microphone and speakers practically stabs her eardrums and makes her wince.

Panic sets in far too quickly. Her heart races, her temperature rises, the heat of LEDs burn and prickle her skin. She can feel sweat in every crevice of her body, especially under her armpits.

“Mel!” a familiar voice hisses from off stage. She snaps her attention towards it and finds the man she’s looking for. Frank is right there, giving her an encouraging thumbs up. Understanding blue eyes, a warm smile that stretches from ear to ear, he has no idea what this does for her. It immediately eases any worry or fear she had.

Frank is her rock, and with him by her side, she can do anything.

Day 16: Glitter

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Day 15: Silk

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Frank swallows, and the thick lump in his throat crash lands in his stomach. Before him stands Melissa King, golden hair down and dressed only in a delicate, cream colored silk slip. In the warm, low light of her bedroom, the fabric’s luminous shine makes her glow in turn. Yet, were it not for the wine colored blush that spreads from her cheeks all the way down to her chest, it’s nearly impossible for Frank to distinguish where the garment ends and her soft skin begins. Best of all, it hugs her figure in all the right places and is thin enough to reveal the stiff peaks of her tempting nipples. 

“I know it’s not much…” Mel mumbles, biting her lip, refusing to look Frank in the eye. She fidgets with the thin strap that can’t seem to find purchase on her shoulder. 

If Frank weren’t so taken by how absolutely breathtaking she looks, he would scold her. How can she not see how truly beautiful she is? Is it not apparent in his face? In the way he pushes her golden strands behind her ear? In the way he gently takes her chin between his forefinger and thumb and directs her gaze towards his own? 

“It’s perfect, Mel. You’re perfect,” he says, unwavering. 

Mel’s eyes widen, dark pupils overtaking hazel.

“Do you mean it?” she asks, trepidation apparent in the way her voice wavers. 

Frank doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he gently guides Mel’s lips towards his own and kisses her. He pours every bit of his unspoken love into it—cupping her face and rubbing comforting circles into her flushed cheeks. 

And when Frank feels her hands take hold of his wrists and hears a high-pitched whimper, he knows she finally understands.

Day 14: Cake

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“Do you think this is too much?” Frank asks, wiping from his cheeks and replacing them with smears of frosting.

Mel inspects the cake. It’s...interesting. She’s unsure how, but the three tiers of Penny’s birthday cake somehow folded into a lopsided two. The frosting, which Frank applied far too early, is halfway melted off the cake. The pink and blues of the frosting make this sickly pale purple that threatens to dribble off the cake stand. The text that’s supposed to say “Happy 3rd Birthday Penny” leaves much to be desired. Frank might have a steady hand in the operating room, but when executing frosting calligraphy…

The only thing that still seems to be intact is the pristine fondant unicorn Mel crafted while Frank was working on the cake itself. It looks so out of place, so unbelievably ridiculous, Mel bursts out into full-bellied laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Frank asked with a raised eyebrow and frosting-coated hands on his hips, ruining his pants without him even realizing. There’s an incredulous edge to his voice that makes Mel guffaw even harder.

“Maybe we should get a sheet cake from Giant Eagle instead?” Mel offers, barely able to get the words out in between her laughter.

Despite Frank’s displeased expression, he acquiesces and says, “I’ll go grab the car keys.”

Day 13: Smoke

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The first time Mel sees Frank Langdon smoke, she bites the inside of her cheek and holds back a scold that is on the tip of her tongue.

Everyone knows doctors smoke for the same reason line cooks smoke. With long and grueling hours and a high-stress work environment, nicotine is guaranteed to mellow it all out. They can slip out easily, discreetly, for a few minutes and return ready to jump back into the fray.

Faint traces of menthol always linger on Frank Langdon’s skin. This faint, yet crisp spice that Mel, for whatever reason, never wanted to acknowledge, despite it being hard to ignore whenever they happened to be working in close proximity. She always chalked it up to the AA meetings. Lots of former addicts find themselves smoking to quell unwanted urges. When she’s at her most wicked and bitter, she blames it on Abby. She usually imagines Abby as one of those rail-thin, yet effortlessly beautiful, women with a lit Marlboro between her index and middle finger.

But no, it’s Frank. Frank Langon is the one who puts harmful chemicals in his body. Rots his teeth and coats the inside of his lungs with tar, toxic gases, and carcinogens.

He’s killing himself, she thinks bitterly. How could he do this to himself, to his family?

So why, then, does Mel wish she were the cigarette between his lips? Smoking has always been a red flag for Mel. An immediate hard pass and turn off. Frank Langdon shouldn’t change that. But he does, he absolutely does. . He looks so cool when he takes a long drag and sighs deeply as the smoke rushes out from his nose. She could learn to live with the stale smell of tobacco, maybe even love it if it’s what he wants.