Flock

What in the hell is wrong with you?”

“You,” he darts his tongue out and licks along my bottom lip. My breath catches as he presses his length along my stomach. “You’re what’s wrong with everything and now…” he shakes his head, “you can’t come between us.”

“Oh, but I did come between you,” I snark. “Twice.”

“What?” He gently nudges me from where he rests.

“I don’t like putting a voice to my fears. Because then, I can only expect them to come true.”

“That’s bleak.”

yeah, this is about the dinner I missed, right?” He spins, jerking open the fridge and grabs his plate. He rips off the foil and snatches a fork from the drawer before shoveling barbecue into his mouth. “It’s delicious, you happy?” Tears gather in my eyes as he tosses the plate across the kitchen and it shatters in the sink.