Their Thief

Thirty-Six

Damaris Rana

I prodded the light-pink sauce coated noodles, a colour I would never associate with Fettuccine Alfredo, with my fork. My face twisted with hesitation as my stomach twisted in pain. The grumbling, empty, twisting feeling that indicated hunger had in recent days turned into pangs of pain, that is when I felt it at all.

"Stop stalling and take a damn bite, woman!" Max exclaimed in annoyance.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I will, just give me a moment. I'm not used to pink pasta."

"Just imagine it's an extra light rose sauce."

"Hard to do since I watched you dump a vial of blood into it," I mumbled under my breath.

"Yeah, the blood of your enemy. Now eat."

"Try closing your eyes, it might make it easier," Lola chimed in while petting Ash who was in her arms.

I pierced a single noodle and twirled the fork until only an inch of pasta was hanging loose. The heavy scent of the pasta carried a slight hint of cinnamon that caused my mouth to water. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I took a small bite. The first flavour that hit my tongue was that of the creamy sauce. Instead of being followed by the ghost memory that haunted my taste buds, my surroundings faded away as a Kaleidescape of flavours overwhelmed my sense of taste. Sweet and savoury flavours took over my mouth, changing to fulfill what my mind desired. One moment my mouth was filled with the taste of Fettuccine Alfredo that even the world's highest-ranked Michelin star restaurants couldn't recreate, then it changed to the velvety, smooth, richness of chocolate, followed by the savoury taste of pot roast and mash potatoes.

The apprehension and disgust at consuming blood fled and I started to shovel through the pink-tinted dish sitting in front of me. The changing flavours stopped after the first few bites. It was as if my tongue decided to settle on the unbelievably elevated taste of pasta that I was shovelling into my mouth like, well, like the starved person that I am.

"Damn, that was kinda hot," max said as my fork scraped on the ceramic plate now devoid of pasta. "In an ', I can imagine you giving a hell of a blow job' kind of way."

I heard Lola gasp in shock at Max's words as I licked the remaining sauce off the plate.

"And now I'm imagining you licking cum off the terrible threes abs, great, just what I needed," he muttered sarcastically as he wrestled the plate from my hands.

My surroundings came back into focus as the object of my attention was no more. I noticed my heavy breathing and racing heart as the remaining flavour settled on my tongue. I darted my eyes from max to Lola before returning to Max and finally landing on the near spotless plate he held in his hands. My fingers twitched, my need for more fueled my heart to tattoo my rib cage. Slight panic rose along with the restlessness.

Is this how people feel after snorting coke?

I looked at Max not sure whether my eyes were begging for more or for help.

"No, Damaris, no, do not look at me like that. You haven't eaten in too long to be able to stomach more than you've already eaten."

"W-what's happening to me? Did you drug me?" My voice rose with panic.

"No, no," he said with a wave of his hand while placing the plate in the sink. "That's fairly insulting to accuse me of that, Sweet Cheeks. What kind of guy do you think I am?" He turned to face me, placing a hand over his heart while mocking shock.

"The kind who would drug their staving friend to get them to eat," I responded without hesitation. Max is the kind of person who would do anything to help those he cares for. Including drugging, kidnapping, and other criminal activities.