Summary: Instinct drove him to reach for her, to cry out, "I'm hear and I'm never leaving!" But the maddening voice of uncertainty impaled him to the chair. This drabble stems from a scene at the end of "Secrets of the Nile". Angsty Frank/Nancy.
This story was inspired by the Blue October song "18th Floor Balcony" and stems from a scene at the end of "Secrets of the Nile".
Disclaimer: I do not own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. You can tell that I don't own them because if I did Nancy and Frank would have been together decades ago.
The cold Egyptian air seeped into his skin. Even after many desert cases, the shift from searing hot days to chilled nights still caught Frank by surprise. He shivered under the t-shirt and light pants of his pajamas.
His eyes drifted below the stars to the balcony of the girls' room next door…of her room.
Shivers had passed through him for very different reasons only a few hours ago.
He was warm before, standing next to her, so close to crushing her curves against him, lips gently rediscovering each other.
The number of kisses they shared over the years wouldn't fill the fingers on one hand, but Frank had already developed a ritual afterwards.
He took great care to memorize their kiss and the events surrounding that moment.
She wore a white skirt easily moved by the light breeze, with a sapphire blouse that polished her sparkling eyes. Her strawberry-blonde hair fell freely as they stepped outside.
He knew every word that was exchanged. Every sweep of her eyes across his face. Every shared caress.
He refused to sleep before the memory was engraved in his mind, a monument of desire and anguish. And now he could not fall asleep because the tormenting remembrance was fixed on his closed eyes.
He returned to the same arguments attached to any stolen thoughts of Nancy, assertions that existed since the first time their hands touched.
And so Frank Hardy sat cursing himself and fate. If only he and Nancy had met before Ned and Callie entered their lives. If only they weren't thrust together over and over again—forced to see the pieces of themselves that fit together so perfectly, filling a void he never recognized until the emptiness was so acute he would gasp in shock.
How could she not be there next to him?
How could this separation be allowed to continue?
How could no one else notice that a part of Frank always remained with Nancy when they parted, that she would always possess something of him that no one else could ever claim? Something that she had not asked for but was rightly hers nevertheless.
More than anything else…
How could the decision to choose Nancy be so difficult?
Frank spent most of his life making decisions. He skillfully sifted through all the information and come to the most logical conclusion. This made him an excellent student and confident detective. And yet, life-threatening choices were easier to make than leaving Callie for Nancy.
The sound of a door opening drew his attention back to the present.
Nancy gracefully drifted onto her balcony, a blanket draped over her shoulders.
He began to rise, subconsciously drawn to her, before stalling the movement in trade for merely watching this woman who so captured him.
He gripped the railing, chaining himself to this position.
She sat on the chair staring out into the inconstant night without a glance toward him. She sighed, fingers running through her hair.
Frank didn't have to wonder what she was thinking. A tear brushed from her cheek was proof of their shared ritual.
The railing cut into his palm and his jaw ached from clenched teeth as his body tensed. Instinct drove him to reach for her, to cry out, "I'm hear and I'm never leaving!" But the maddening voice of uncertainty impaled him onto the chair.
She rose to leave, turning away from him. A step from the door she suddenly stopped and stiffened. His eyes raced over her, knowing that she must feel him.
Uncontrolled, his released breath carried his only thought, "Nancy…"
Her hand stretched behind her, as if catching his wish and returning her own on the gracious wind, "Frank…" She slide back through the doorway, leaving him alone again.
While this was not enough, would never be enough, he was grateful for two shared moments with her on this night. Memories that he hoped would eventually diminish the hesitation for them both.
This is a barely edited story, so maybe it's not my best work but I still enjoyed the whole idea of it. The main thing I was going for was longing. How did I do?