@kingdonmicrofic || rated: g || word count: 500 || day 5: speech || cross-posted on ao3
“The thing is,” Frank clears his throat, “I’m not great at speeches but…” he clears his throat, fidgeting on his feet, trying to rub the embarrassment out of his neck. “I don’t know, I feel like I have to get this out because if I don’t, I will explode and— fuck, I don’t want to keep this inside anymore because every time I see you, I’m really scared that I’m on the verge of having a heart attack.
“I know it doesn’t make any sense, because medically speaking, I— well, fuck, that’s not the point. The point is that — I love you. I like you?” he huffs out his breath, running his hand through his hair. He washed it two hours ago in preparation for this but he’s sure that he’s touched it so many times since then that it’s already greasy and gross. “I like you — and we’re friends and I don’t want to jeopardize that because that’s one of the most important things in my life, but I can’t keep pretending like this isn’t happening. Because I like you. As more than just a friend.”
He stares at the person in front of him, wide, glassy-eyed and a half-open mouth. “Fucking idiot,” he mutters under his breath at his own reflection. “You can’t even say that shit to yourself, how are you gonna tell Mel? Oh, Mel, I love you so much. Can you please take this drug addict who has gotten divorced three minutes ago with two kids under seven as your boyfriend because he’d very much like to kiss you and spend the rest of his life with you if that’s not too much trouble? No worries if not, though, because best friend forever, right?” he scoffs at his own reflection who is looking perturbed and disturbed all at the same time. He barely resists the urge to punch himself in the face. “Fuck.” He drops his head against the mirror of the bathroom, willing the glass to cool him down, tugging at the stupid tie he put on as a pathetic attempt to make this dinner look more like a date.
“Um…” He jumps up at the sound — definitely a woman. Definitely… Mel. “Frank?”
“Shit,” he very nearly jumps out of his own skin. “How long have you been here?”
“You took so long, I was worried something had happened,” she says, looking like she might throw up — flushed and wide-eyed.
“How much of that did you hear?” he reiterates the question.
“Enough?” she squeaks out. “All of it?”
“Fucking hell,” he mutters, shaking his head. “That is not how I wanted you to hear it, Mel, I—”
“I love you, too,” she rushes out the words, interrupting him before he can go on.
“What?” Blood freezes in his veins.
“I love you, too,” she repeats again, “so — don’t take it back.”
Like he ever could. Like he’d ever want to. “Say it again.”
“I love you,” she repeats, “and it was a good speech.”
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