💀 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃.

[castle]

"I look at you and my heart breaks, because all I can see is this endless, echoing loneliness." open post for pic prompts, starters, and texts of all kind. m/f and 25+ for shipping. see here for more shipping preferences. please link nsfw images. punisher s1 + s2 compatible.

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[castle]

Does it matter? [ He dodges the question, arms crossed as he peers down at her from above, his stance stern as his brows pinch together tight in his focus.

He promises to protect her in the way he can, the kind that evokes more fierce methods, usually in the course of bloodied knuckles and sore muscles. Because that he can do, built for it, trained for it — it's different when it's something more internal, hinted by the daze in her eyes. ]

What is it? [ Because he won't be letting it go easily. ]

[sh1t]

It matters when I’m stuck in here all day and night like a caged animal.

[Reaching behind her for the blanket, Amy sets down the cup of tea so she can wrap it around herself. All the while not daring to look up at Frank. So what if she’s a little cold? It’s fine. She’s fine. Rolling her eyes when he continues to insist on finding out what’s wrong, Amy leans back into the couch and takes a sip of her tea.]

I didn’t get enough sleep.

[That’s a total lie. Especially with how congested she sounds.]

[castle]

[ He doesn't immediately respond; she knows the drill, knows that being in here warrants her safety. There's no reason for her to be out there right now, while they're out there on the prowl, looking for her. Better her here than out there.

But it's the most obvious lie, to which Frank knows the tricks to, and his eyes remain locked on her in further observation, noting the shift in color of her cheeks, the way she huddles herself away in that blanket.

Reaching out a hand, he presses the back of it to her forehead, sensing for a distinction. ]

Shit. [ He mutters, immediately picking up on the change. ] You're sick.

[sh1t]

[Amy barely has time to pull her head away from his reach when his hand makes contact with her forehead. She doesn’t like to be doted on in general but especially when she’s sick.]

I told you, I’m fine.

[Yes she is keeping up with that terrible lie. Even as she leans further into the couch.]

So are you going to fill me in or what?