Rainy Days (Dead Plate)

6

Vince was just sitting on the floor with a sleeping Rody's head in his lap. He felt awkward, but for some reason, he didn't care. He wanted Rody to be comfortable, or trust him, or something. He wasn't sure.

He leaned back against the wall, letting out a small groan. He rested a hand on the side of Rody's head, caressing gently along his hairline above his ear.

He looks so peaceful, he thought. He's always so flustered, but he looks so. . . calm. . . and unbothered right now. . .

He sighed quietly, looking off to the side of the elevator as he gingerly rubbed the side of Rody's head with the pads of his thumb.

He looked up at the top of the elevator, then to the floor after a few seconds. He couldn't seem to keep his gaze locked on one spot for too long.

He took his hand off of Rody and buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on a small portion of his thighs that Rody's head wasn't propped up on. He let out a muffled groan, curling his fingers and pulling at his hair.

He closed his eyes, and sat there like that, in that same position, for a few minutes before just letting his arms fall down to his sides as he leaned back against the wall again, taking breaths.

His face felt hot and his body felt itchy.

He let out a low grunt and started slowly moving out from under Rody, supporting his resting head with one of his hands. Once he no longer had Rody's head in his lap, he slowly used his hand to lower Rody's head to the floor and gently moved his hand away, making it so that Rody's head was now only supported by the floors of the rough, scratchy carpet.

Vince almost immediately felt relieved of the warmth and itchiness of his body. It was as of making contact with Rody alone made him break out in hives.

Pathetic, he thought. He sighed.

Why is this even happening? It's so...

He stopped his thought process to glance over at the sleeping Rody. He huffed.

. . .stupid. . .

[end of chapter 6]