Frank was a man of consistency, routine.

a part of that routine was waking up bright and early at 6AM due to a nightmare, then starting his day as usual.

however, ever since he met you, a S.H.I.E.L.D agent who he had saved from being mugged in return for some data, his nightmares slowed. he deemed it a coincidence. a slightly strange phenomenon. he refused to tie his new.. friendship into his subconscious mind.

one night, after falling asleep at his kitchen island in the shitty apartment room he was renting, his first dream in awhile came to him:

he sat in your office on your lunch break, watching you pick pieces of sushi up with chopsticks then smile at him like a pudgy chipmunk with a stash hidden in your cheeks. everything was still, almost peaceful for a man like Frank, then the door sung open, followed by officers who stated you had violated S.H.I.E.L.D’s trust by giving data to Frank. a gun raised, fired and then lowered. you slumped motionless in your chair, blood splattered on Frank’s face.

he woke up with a jolt, staring at your computer that you’d lent him for data. he grabbed it and chucked it at the wall, breathing heavily.

he did this. he put you at risk because he believed you owed him.

selfish bastard

he sat back down at the island, rubbing his temples when a knock came to the front door of his rented room.