Paul Polk

By the time he was taking the pizza out of the microwave, he was regretting not getting dressed before coming out for food.

He could hear the roomies stirring like bears in their caves and it sent a frission of fear through him.

The scars were a stark reminder across his chest. Of who he used to be. Of what he wasn’t anymore.

Wincing at the sting of pain in his fingers, he nudged the microwave closed and hustled out of the kitchen. He briefly thought about going back for napkins, but he saw the shadow move under Tamela’s door and knew there wasn’t enough time.

He reached the attic stairs as Tamela’s doorknob began to turn. He tried to race up as quietly as he could, imagining himself as a wisp on the breeze.

By the time he emerged in his bedroom, he was grinning madly. “I bring delicious food for the gods.”

“Gods, are we?”

“Well,” Paul gave a mocking bow, “one of us is a god in the sack.”

“Why do I feel like I should be insulted?”

“Probably the same reason why I feel inordinately pleased.”

The twins twined together and beckoned him to them. “You only want me for my food,” he teased, letting himself be pulled onto the bed. “Watch out. We don’t want crumbs in the sheets.”

“The sheets will wash. Crumbs are the least of the mess they’re gonna be in by the time we’re done with you, Polk.”

“Amen?”

“No. This isn’t the end of a prayer. This is the start of one.”

Caspian Dukes

He was exhausted. Down to his very bones. The last thing he wanted to do was cook. All he wanted was to eat.

He shouldn’t have let himself be pulled into the bar. Not when he was so body tired that he was surprised to be able to feel his feet.

But PSI was getting married. Caspian had to at least put in a brief appearance.

He’d smiled. Laughed. Even managed a bit of conversation.

And he’d drunk every toast and cheered with all the rest. Until he could finally leave and come home to the quiet of his apartment.

He wished he’d stopped off to grab some food on his way back. But the idea of his bed and his TV was too much for him. It was only when his stomach rumbled after his shower that he’d thought of all the restaurants he’d trudged past on his way home.

He was still wistful as he took out the pizza box

He wasn’t enough of a savage to eat directly out of the fridge.

He ate over the stovetop instead. His every blink felt heavier than the last, but he didn’t stop eating until he’d finished two slices.

He snatched a third slice out of the box before trudging toward his room. He ate as he walked, not letting himself slow when he passed the couch.

If he sat on the couch for even a moment, he’d be waking up there in the morning with a crook in his neck.

By the time he reached his room, the pizza was gone and he didn’t feel like brushing his teeth.

Sighing at himself, he opened one of the bedside drawers for two pieces of sugar free gum. Tangy sour and sweet to wipe away the traces of garlic and parmesan.

Chewing lazily, he curled up in the middle of the bed. He was too tired to reach for the blankets. He pulled the pillow under his head and that was it. He couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.

He was already asleep.