DEVIL

1.6 | Gluttony

Gluttony; noun: "over-indulgence and over-consumption of food, drink, or wealth items, particularly as status symbols."

"You'll never guess who I've got over here right now," Anthony said to Poetry as soon as she entered the house. "Considering you have no friends, I'd have to guess that it's Alyssa?" Alyssa came out from behind the nearest wall, feigning a pout; "how'd you know?" The two childhood best friends shared a hug, before Poetry physically dragged Alyssa away from Anthony.

"You're both disgustingly clingy," Poetry grumbled. Alyssa sat down on Poetry's bed, as Poetry went to her closet to grab a more comfortable outfit, since she hadn't planned on leaving the house again. "Don't be jealous," Alyssa taunted. She leaned over and grabbed a random knickknack from Poetry's nightstand, suddenly finding it to be the most entertaining object she'd ever laid eyes on.

Poetry exited her closet, tossing her old outfit into her dirty clothes hamper. "Why're you wearing that?" Alyssa asked as she judged Poetry's sweat-shorts and cropped tank top that she wore most of the time. Poetry's brows knitted together. "Because it's comfortable?" She replied. "Wouldn't you wanna leave the house? Why can't we go down to the beach? Or out to dinner?" Alyssa pleaded.

"Lyss, you sound like you're trying to save a strained marriage," Poetry joked as she flopped down onto her bed. "I am!" Alyssa exaggerated, placing the back of her hand against her forehead, as if to show distress. "At least come down to the beach with me, just for a minute. I wanna get one of those snow-cones they have in the buggy-carts down there." It took some convincing for Poetry to get up, especially after she'd already gotten comfortable; but she finally agreed.

As Alyssa waited for the ice cream buggy to pass down the beach, Poetry held her flip-flops in her hand as she waded in ankle-deep water. Poetry heard distant arguing, causing her head to swivel around in its direction.

It was almost humorous, seeing Alyssa and Rafe insolently argue over which one of them would get the final snow-cone. Poetry would've sat back and observed, until she caught a glimpse of the teenager, who was clearly uncomfortable while she was only trying to do her job. Sighing as if she were a mother on her way to discipline her children, Poetry made her way up the beach.

"I was here first!"

"That doesn't matter," both of their words got lost in the collision of their contrasting voices. They turned around annoyedly, upon hearing Poetry clear her throat; Rafe and Alyssa's expressions softened, and glanced to Poetry almost as if to plead. "Poe, please tell him-"

"It doesn't matter if she was here first, right?" Poetry's eyes traveled between her best friend and her – well, Rafe. "Stop arguing for three seconds," Poetry scolded, granting the worker an apologetic glance. Alyssa and Rafe both listened to Poetry, going silent for exactly three seconds; until Rafe broke the silence, again. "Who gets it?" Rafe asked. Poetry shrugged, motioning her hand between Alyssa and Rafe. "Settle it over rock, paper, scissors."

"We're not children-"

"Two out of three," Rafe interrupted, turning to face her. Alyssa rolled her eyes, but held her fist over her palm in agreement. "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot," they both said; Rafe won the first round – the second round belonged to Alyssa. By the third round, Alyssa had won. Rafe sighed dramatically, watching as the young girl handed the snow-cone over to Alyssa.

Just as it was about to reach her hand, Rafe's hand shot outward, snatching the snow-cone before Alyssa could grab it. A gasp left Alyssa's lips, watching as he started sprinting and laughing like a child. "Rafe," Poetry called exasperatedly, though, to no avail. Alyssa's head whipped around to face Poetry. "That's Rafe? Like, Rafe Cameron? The guy you talked about on the phone?" Alyssa said. "Lyss, you've seen him before."