Love is Dead

Is this... Love?

WARNING: this fanfic contains nicotine use, cannibalism/gore, cussing, gay stuff(obvi), and regular relationship things.

-insert name- = Pov change
'thoughts' = character thoughts
"words" = Dialogue
(Info) = translation/adding info
[Phone] = someone speaking to a character on the phone
If there is nothing around the text then it's a character's action or a character's past action.

-Rody's Pov-

'This dude has a whole fucking garden in his fridge but not Tylenol in his cabinets??? Does he not get headaches??'

I hold my head with my hand, I walk out of the kitchen. I go down the hallway to his other bathroom, and I walk in and open the cabinet. Ibuprofen! Not what I'd usually take but I have no other options. I take out two pills and set them on the counter, I turn the faucet and cup my hands, letting the water fill them. I put the water in my mouth and then I pop the pills in and I swallow.

I head back over to the couch laying down, my head atop the arm rest, like 30 minutes later the ibuprofen kicks in and I decide to sleep to also help my head feel better.

-Vincent's Pov-

I woke up and I roll over noticing the the clock on my nightstand which says 8:26pm I groan, still slightly groggy from my nap, I get up and walk into the living room. 'Huh-?' I notice Rody sleeping on the couch looking cold. I sigh 'I can't believe what I'm about to do..' I head back in my bedroom and grab a blanket from the closet and walk back into the living room, I unfold the blanket and gently lay it on top of him.

"He looks so stupid..." I mutter, I reach my hand down and I tuck a tuff of his hair behind his ear- 'Wow, his hair is so soft..' I snap out of it and pull my hand away. I feel an ache in my heart, not sadness and nod longing, something weird... I take a deep breath and look out the window.. 'The sun's setting. So it's not just my heater being broken that's making it cold. Go figure.' I shrug, I try to think of something, I go to one of the bookshelves and I grab a book, it's called blandly living I roll my eyes at the title. I only have this damn book because my mother said it was about not being able to taste and it reminded her of me.

I run my hand through my hair, sighing. I sit down on the chair next to the couch, my right hand for some reason rests on Rody's head, my muscles tense up and then relax for that reason. I start reading.

I stop reading after I finish the line of the book that says "eating is unenjoyable for people who can't taste--" because I feel Rody turn over, I quickly take my hand off his head. I check the clock on the wall and it says 10:09pm.

Rody slowly sits up, yawning and stretching his arms.

I calmly say "It's two hours till midnight, Rody. You should go back to sleep, or I suppose you could eat dinner if that's what you want."

He states at me for a few seconds "Well.. I'm kinda hungry.."

I stare back and then I get up and go into the kitchen, grabbing leftover spaghetti out of the fridge and heating it up. I put in on a plate around 10 minutes later and I set it on the table in front of him, along with a fork.

He gets to eating almost immediately 'he must've really been hungry, ....Well to be fair he hasn't eaten since 8am. I'll cut him some slack.'

Rody eats all of it, practically but not actually licking the plate clean. He looks up at me saying "Uhm.. T- Thank you..." He rubs the back of his neck.

I roll my eyes "It's not a big deal, Rody." I take the plate and fork and I take them to the kitchen and wash them thoroughly and drying them until they feel like they weren't even washed.

I walk back into the living room crossing my arms. "Sleep."

Rody nods and slowly falls asleep, once again I cover him with the blanket.

I stay up for awhile, drinking a glass of wine while reading that book. I look up from the book and look at the clock. I mutter "1:37am huh?"  I get up from the chair.

Going to the bookshelves and placing the book back in it's correct spot. I go into the kitchen and pour the last of the wine in the glass down the drain. I go to my bedroom, glancing at Rody in the process. I go into my bathroom and I brush my teeth, use Listerine--

(I know it probably didn't exist in the 60s! Shush.)

I brush out my hair, and washing my face. I head over to my bed and sit down, falling asleep a few minutes later.

.......

-Vincent's Pov-

I wake up to my alarm beep! Beep beep! Beep! I turn it off and get up, stretching. I change into my work outfit, patting it to get the dust off, and because it's me, there's no dust. I slip on socks and shoes. Going into the bathroom, I do my morning routine, making sure that everything is perfect.

I open my bedroom door and I go into the living room, shaking Rody. "Get up, time for work."

I toss his shoes on the floor next to the couch, he stretches and yawns, quickly putting on his shoes and struggling to tie them.

I pull his hands away from his shoes and I tie them, and I get up.

I drag him downstairs to the bistro, handing him his notepad and pen. "You know what to do, and remember, don't try to escape. I'll always have my eyes on you, understood?"

-Rody's Pov-

I gulp and nod. "y- yes sir.."

Vince rolls his eyes and gestures for me to shoo and do my job.

The first customers I get come in-- a table for four!? 'Ugh! I hate these people.' Nonetheless I show them to a table and I put on my server smile "Hello, and thank you for dining at La gueule de saturne, may I take you order or do you need more time?"

And middle aged woman says "Four mains, please."

I nod and slowly walk to the window to call their order while cursing under my breath. The first one comes out, I serve it, then the second, third, fourth. 'Smile Rody, stay calm.' A man who looks to be a man in his 70s says "The steak is dry." I calmly say "Sir, unfortunately I cannot do anything about that."

The man rolls his eyes and says "Yeah. Because you're too lazy."

I raise an eyebrow "Pardon me?" The older gentleman says "you're lazy, your hair is a rat's next and your bowtie isn't even tied."

I'm about to say something when the middle aged woman, likely his grown daughter, says "Dad, lets go." The two go along with a little boy and a lady looking to be in her late 60s all of which leave. The sixty-something year old woman leave a singular dollar bill, my blood boils slightly but I decide that I won't let it bother me.

Hey! It's Callum! This is the fourth chapter of Love is Dead by: Me!
Love ya, friends! And don't forget, get a man's like Rody, he'd treat y'all fuckers right. Bye-bye!

                   You can't tell me that this man isn't bisexual.