Dead Plate (Rody X Vincent)

Chapter 2

That evening, Rody plopped down onto his couch. He let out a long sigh, shutting his eyes.

His stomach growled. He let out a groan, sitting up. He had burnt the last of his cereal (don't ask) the day before.

He glanced over at his fridge, his stomach churning. Maybe the left overs weren't so bad? He got to his feet and slunk over to his fridge, it felt illegal to finally be eating them. He remembered how disappointed and upset Vincent had sounded when he had admitted that he hadn't even thought of touching the left overs.

How bad could it be? He thought to himself before choosing from the many plates of left overs. He hovered his hand over one. The strawberry shortcake. He picked it up and gagged as he got a whiff of it.

"What the he-" He gagged once again, he could almost taste the horrid odour.

He quickly tossed it into the garbage bag he had sitting next to the door.

He coughed into his hand, clearing his throat before sticking his head back into the fridge.

He grabbed a plate of what looked to be potatoes and steak? He was no genius when it came to food. He hesitantly lifted the plate to his nose, breathing in the smell. It didn't smell too horrible.

He let out a sigh before removing the ceramic wrap. He glanced at his micro wave before deciding not to risk burning the meal. He grabbed a plastic fast food fork and sat down into his couch before digging in.

It tasted bitter. He shivered as a piece of the meat slid down his throat. He coughed as he continued to force the food down his throat.

✃- - - - -

Rody slumped deeper into the worn cushions of his couch, the weight of the silence pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. His gaze wandered his room, it was a mess. It was easy for someone's mental health to deteriorate after living like this for years.

As he sat there, the minutes stretching into eternity, Rody couldn't help but wonder if this was the reason behind Manon's sudden silence. Maybe it was his horrific living situation.

Rody held his head in his hands. He was a wreck of a man, that was one thing he was sure of. He also knew he didn't deserve her. But the thought of losing her was like a knife to his heart.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head softly. Maybe staying inside too often was starting to get to him. He looked outside the window, looking at the evening sky, or as much of it as he could see behind the apartments that lined the street.

"A walk around the block couldn't hurt." He said aloud, the sound of his own voice cutting through the oppressive silence like a lifeline.

✃- - - - -

Rody glanced up at the sky, the sun had already begun to set. It was like an artist's canvas, filled with skillful strokes of reds, oranges and yellows.

The only sound was his own breathing as he walked. The city soon became deserted as the sun said its final goodbyes, vanishing behind the hills.

The air was chilly, causing Rody to shiver as the streetlights dimly lit the path. Rody enjoyed walking around the city at night. Other than the occasional drunk, it was usually peaceful.

He let out a happy sigh, closing his eyes. His ears tingled as a new sound flowed through the air, footsteps. He opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder. Not too far away there was someone walking on the same direction. They were too far away for Rody to make out any details.

He shrugged, turning ahead and continuing his walk. He softly hummed, a slight skip in his step as the cold breeze combed through his orange hair.

"Rody?" Rody leapt off the ground a few feet, before whirling around and punching on instinct. There was a bam, followed by a groan as his fist connected with something.

His eyes landed on Vincent, who was kneeling over on the ground, holding his nose.

Rody let out a loud gasp before dropping to his knees next to the chef. "Vince!" He gently placed his hands on the younger males shoulders. "I'm so so so sorry!"

Vincent just grunted in response, his eyes shut tightly for a few more seconds before they slowly opened. Rody shivered at the glare that was sent his way.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" His face was dusted pink from embarrassment.

He continued apologizing profusely, trying to get Vincent to uncover his nose so he could assess the damage.

"Stop your chattering," Vincent's voice was strained. "You're giving me a headache"

Rody held his tongue as he gingerly removed Vincent's hand from his nose. It was bleeding slightly, but other than that it didn't seem too bad. "I'm sorry, Vince." He whispered, his hands wrapped around Vincent's pale one.

The two stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, neither one moving. Vincent's gaze had softened slightly. "It's alright." He murmured, removing his hand from Rody's.

"I didn't mean to startle you." He said, getting to his feet, wiping at his bloodied nose.

"Does it hurt badly?" Rody asked, standing up as well.

Vincent shrugged it off, straightening his black turtle neck shirt. He fixed his posture and cleared his throat.

Rody rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. "How about I make it up to you?" He offered, hoping that Vincent wouldn't take this as an opportunity to fire him or anything.

Vincent let out a sigh before reluctantly agreeing, "why not?" He might as well take this to his advantage.

He waited for Rody to begin walking, but he just stared at Vincent expectantly.

"Uhm, where do you wanna go?" He finally spoke up, breaking the awkward silence.

Vincent pondered his question for a few moments. "What about Cabane d'eau des Marais?" He suggested, gesturing down the dimly lit street.

"Oh, that nouveau bar?" Rody grinned slightly. "Hopefully you're a lightweight; I'd rather not be broke by tomorrow." He said with a hearty laugh. When he realized he was the only one laughing, he quieted down. "Uhm, let's go." He said, clearing his throat.

Vincent nodded. They began walking down the sidewalk.

The streetlights soon became brighter as they made their way into the richer part of the city. That's when a thought crossed Rody's mind, "hey, Vince?" Vincent hummed in response. "Why were you walking around my apartment?" Vincent didn't speak, as if deciding how to reply.

"It's quieter around there than where the bistro is." He said, as if it were obvious. Rody's lips formed an 'o'.

Soon enough, they stood side by side in front of the Saloon. The words Cabane d'eau des Marais were lit up above the double doors, casting an orange glow.

(Oh ho ho, this is gonna be fun😈)