There’s More to Life Than Just Toast
AN: An A-Z Drabble series about Franco and Elizabeth’s Relationship.
He didn’t know why he had come here. He opened the door and looked at the painting of him and Drew. He had loved that painting once, but now that he knew the truth, it was forever changed. He was filled with anger as eyes shifted to the blood stain on the ground, uncle Jim’s blood. He wished that he could feel relief that it was over, be thankful that Jim was dead and would never be able to hurt him or any other child again, but he couldn’t. Perhaps he would feel that in time, but for now there was just anger.
He looked around the room at all of the art that he had created over the years. This place would always be dark and ugly to him. Death had claimed this place as it’s own many years ago. This was the place where he had killed so many in the name of art. He now knew that he wasn’t born evil, the darkness inside was created by Uncle Jim, and the tumor. They were both gone now, but the anger remained.
Franco needed to destroy that part of him once and for all. He wanted to protect the relationship that he had with Elizabeth. He would not let the darkness of this place destroy the future that he wanted with her. He once told her that there was more to life than just Toast. At the time, he was just learning what it was to be human. They had become friends and when she had been pushed down the stairs, he almost lost her to death. He had pleaded with her to hold on, with promises that there would be more to their life then a few kisses over Toast. He smiled as he thought of the memory.
He decided that he would take out all of his pent up anger on an empty canvas and then he would burn that and the rest of this place down to the ground.
Elizabeth showed up at Franco’s studio and saw him splattering red paint across the white canvas. She recognized the anger that he was unleashing, the look on his face was hauntingly familiar to her. Tom had left her with that same type of anger when he had stolen her innocence the same way that Jim had stolen Franco’s. For a moment, she felt like she was that same fifteen year old girl trashing her bedroom. She slowly walked into the room and picked up the icy blue paint and threw it on the canvas right next to his.
The two of them unleashed the rest of their anger in silence, getting all the years of pent up rage out of their system, creating something fascinating in the process.
“I’m sorry that you had to see this,” he whispered as he turned to her.
“I’m not. Anger’s a part of you, just like it’s a part of me. It might not be as pretty as toast, but it’s life, yours and mine. It’s part of being human, and you promised that we would be partners in everything.”
“I love you,” he whispered as he reached out to trace her face.
“I love you too. Let’s keep this art that we made today and the rest, we’ll let burn,” Elizabeth said as she grabbed their latest work of art.
“How did you know I wanted to burn this place down?” Franco asked.
“I understand you,” Elizabeth said as she handed him the box of matches.
He grabbed the lighter fluid off the counter and started a fire. He took Elizabeth by the hand and left leaving their anger in this place of death to burn to the ground.