Flames || Rhink

Foodie

I rushed to the door, Rhett following suit.

I was hesitant to open it, but I knew Rhett would if I didn't.

Standing there was none other than Devin, wearing that dumb hat he wore just the few hours ago when he rubbed his penis against mine.

He immediately made eye contanct with Rhett, and I knew that Rhett would understand.

"Link," Devin began, "I just wanted to come by and say I was sorry about last night."

He choked on some of his words, but I would have too if Rhett was starring into my soul like he was Devin's. 

"Um, yeah. It's cool," I wanted to say, but Rhett stepped in, "Oh, you're that guy. Cool. Well here's the thing. I don't quite appreciate what you have done and I want you to know that if it ever happens again, I will find you, cut your testicles off, and feed them to a pig. I'll make you suffer, okay? Because I don't play when it comes to Link, and you won't either."

My jaw dropped. Literally.

I couldn't believe the words he was saying. 

Devin looked so afraid that he backed up, nodding. "Yes, sir. It won't happen again. I promise."

Rhett waved him off then, grabbed me by the shoulder, and pulled me back into the house. 

Once the door was closed, I looked at Rhett, grinning stupidly, "You don't have to worry about cutting his balls off."

Rhett raised a brow, "What do you mean?"

I laughed, "You just scared them right off the boy."

He didn't laugh, "If that man ever lays a hand on you, you call me."

I nodded.

Rhett then grabbed his keys from the bedroom and ushered me out the door.

"How about Martha's?" he said as we piled into his car.

I looked down at my scrawny legs, and wished I would have had time to change. Honestly, you could probably see the difference by just looking at me.

I had lost 17 pounds in the last month, which wasn't normal. It wasn't good for me because I didn't weigh all that much to begin with if I'm being honest.

Rhett didn't say anything if he did notice. Hopefully he wouldn't.

"That skillet down the road from your house?" I asked, buckling up.

He smiled, "That's the one. I've been craving some of those buttery biscuits for days."

I laughed and soon we were off.

Rhett kept conversation in the car. He talked about what he knew, which was GMM. It hurt me a little to hear about all the fun they had been having and every bone in my body wished to go back, but I knew it wasn't my place.

By the time we arrived at Martha's Skillet, Rhett had already announced he was "hungry" seven times.

We pulled into the gravel parking lot and got out of the car. Rhett waited for me at the door.

He was so tall. It's like I had forgotten his features and seeing them again made me want to love him harder than before.

The smell of biscuits and bacon filled my nose as soon as I stepped foot into the shop.

A few elderly couples were sitting at the tables in the front. They were sipping their coffee, reading their newspapers, and downing their grits.

The sight and smell made my stomach rumble. I hadn't had a real meal in over a month.