Page 43 of Devour

It was late. He didn’t need to sleep yet, but relaxing didn’t have the same effect with so much noise between us. Unlike me, Rhory was used to turning his ability on and off whenever convenient for him. Our link seemed to be as reflexive as breathing, meaning he could only control it when he stopped to think about it. Sleep remained our only respite, yet achieving it could be near impossible.

In order not to add to the noise, the television got left on with no sound. Instead, I used the soft glow to illuminate the room. Rhory opened his eyes, and his gaze had the same subtle luminescence while he stared back at me.

By some miracle, I can still distinguish when I have been doing the thinking. Tell me your thoughts.

You know those as well as I do. And with that, he buried his head further down beside me.

Also, true. A little too true. Yet, I still felt the need to ask questions when I already knew the answers because I still hoped to hear I’d been wrong all along.

So, after he left, I set a plan in motion. He’d been stretching the gaps between visits, which I understood. I didn’t feel any resentment about that. None. And I wasn’t feeling cranky as a direct result. Not in the slightest. As a matter of fact, when he returned, I thought about how gorgeous he looked these days. I didn’t expect to like black on him and I’d never prefer anything over red, but this also came so close. He didn’t often wear anything other than black, either, but his flowy white shirt paired with the pitch black of his hair so beautifully. It suited him.

He walked right over to me, teeth eagerly chattering. So hungry.

“No,” I said as calmly as possible. Ugh, and it killed me somewhat to refuse too, but someone had to be the strong one here. “Down. Now.”

Rhory stopped short and plopped to his knees, then wasted a few minutes sitting on the living room floor and being pissed at me.

“I can hear you cursing me out, and it’s not the best way to make a case for yourself,” I reminded him with a smile.

Then he rolled his eyes. So sassy when hungry.

“I am sick of hearing you nonstop, and I’m sure you’re sick of me. So, you are going to figure this out, and until you do, we’re not going anywhere,” I told him.

“Stop poking around in my head so fucking much, then.”

“It’s not that simple,” I reminded him. “Blocking my thoughts from you and stopping me from hearing yours are the same skill set. You need to meet me halfway here, Rhory.”

“But I’m hungry,” he whined.

“Good. Let that motivate you.”

His butt lifted from the floor, and he gave me a very enthusiastic, fangy grin. “Or how about a little snack first, and—”

“Hard no.”

He plopped back down with a pout. Then the pout vanished, and I had to interrupt another long-winded train of thought.

“I can hear you plotting…” I hinted.

“Well, I hear what you’re saying, but it doesn’t seem to make sense because you can’t make sure I stay here the whole time—”

“I can,” I interrupted.

“—and even if you could, you have places to be.”

“I don’t.”

Which was very true. I took time off for this. Considering I could barely focus or function thanks to him, I needed the break anyway.

“Nowhere. We are going nowhere, you are eating nothing, and your crash course is starting now.”

Rhory tilted his head.

“Ever heard of earworm, Rhory?” And… then I started thinking about the song. Not the lyrics in my voice, but the actual music, note for note, accompanied by the extremely distinct vocals.

After a few minutes of “Tiptoe Through the Tulips,” he rolled his eyes. “You’ve made your point. You can stop now.”

“Make me,” I challenged. “Block it out.”

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