Eat Him Up

5

(3600 words)

He remembers how you felt in his arms.

You were so... human.

Everything about you.

You were bright, you were warm, you were... you.

And you were a human, and you were every piece as natural and alive as he so desperately reached for.

And you...

You extended your arm towards him, let him grasp your hand, and pulled him up.

Pulled him closer.

You were human, and you helped him become one as well.

He wasn't able to understand certain things, but you were patient, and you helped him with what he struggled with. He had learned so much from you.

It was why, when he had begun to tighten his grasp around you, he didn't understand.

He didn't understand why you were still reaching out to other people. Was he not enough? You always told him that you loved him.

He didn't understand why you began to grow discontent with him. Did you not want this? You told him otherwise so much, there was no way.

He didn't understand why you broke up with him, why you cut off contact. You promised.

But... you were human.

Humans forget, humans go back on their promises.

You didn't remember the first or the second time he tried to show you.

He simply has to remind you of your words, he simply has to bring you back to him.

Because you were a flawed human, and by your guide he was one as well.

—

Lem wasn't a patient man.

This he knew and would readily admit.

But when it came to you?

His current situation spoke volumes.

He was watching you move around the kitchen, a darkly colored apron lazily put on by you as you decided to cook yourself something. With half-lidded eyes, he followed your movements, lips curled in a grin.

You were used to the kitchen; it seemed to be a skill of yours to cook. Whether gained in childhood or adulthood he didn't know, but it didn't really matter when you learned.

The entire reason he was leaning against the counter and silently ogling you was because you forbade him from speaking for a little bit. He had been listing off some of his favorite ways to prepare a human, and you did not want to listen to his recipes. Your offput expression was amusing as usual, and with your hand covering his mouth, he leaned in close to you.

You quickly responded to this by pulling your hand off of his face and giving him a spiteful glare, which was when you told him to not speak. Of course, you said you would do something for him in return in order to keep him quiet.

You regretted making the deal the second he gained a scheming smirk, hiding it with a shrug and nonchalance.

So, he stood, a lovestruck expression on his face at your smooth movements, your accomplished grin, and you.

Ah, you...

What he felt towards you, this bursting warmth and affection, this desire to hold and keep close, forever...

Was it love?

That word felt forbidden in his mind, and he was sure it would be poison on his lips.