Yvette arrived home and as soon as she closed the door, she made a beeline towards the shower. She turned it on and let the water drench her, clothes and all. 

     For a moment, her mind was numb, static going in and out as not even the water could be felt on her skin. She stared at nothing and slowly removed her clothes. She recalled her interaction from tonight and how different it had been.

      She talked normally to people around her without a care in the world. She even discovered more about the man who had helped her. She never could have guessed that he was carrying such a burden. 

     He loved his fiancée even after everything. His feelings were not as shallow or watered down as hers. 

     She remembered how Cane spoke about her as if he never wanted to let her go. It sent an odd feeling in her chest, as if it was about to burst. She clenched her hand into a fist and repeatedly struck herself on her temple. Over and over, she winced but never stopped until the feeling welled down. This was no longer gratitude or curiosity she felt for a man, a man who seemed miles away from her, a man who still held someone else dear. She felt sick. How could she feel such a way? She felt shame as she scrubbed her body. Scratching and wiping, she scraped until her skin was raw as if to repent.

     She dressed herself and collapsed onto her bed. She side-eyes her fridge, thinking about the thing she once held dear. But what was connecting her to that jar was no longer love, but the memory. 

     To her, loving someone was giving yourself entirely to another, letting yourself be consumed by the feelings you bore. That was her kind of love. Yet, even after she loved so dearly, horrible memories still overwrote the good ones. She felt her stomach grumble and decided to practice what she preached. To love is to consume, and that's what she would do.

     She put her cooking skills to work. Paprika, salt, star anise, guajillo, and serrano, crush and mix into a paste. Boil water and bones with the marrow attached, skim the top, and separate them into equal parts. Use half the water to make rice and the other half to add to the paste and marinate the cheeks, forehead, eyes, and skin. The aroma of spices made her mouth water as she added olive oil to the pan and tossed in the marinated meat. On the side, she saw she still had some broth. She cut onions, carrots, and potatoes. She softened the onions in a pan, added the broth and a bit of flour to thicken, and added the carrots and potatoes. She added chipotle chiles and added the eyes. Those beautiful blue irises looked at her for the last time before sinking to the bottom, but no longer making her heart flutter.

     She assembled her dishes. Meat doused in red sauce simmered to perfection, golden rice flavored with chicken flavoring, and a soup with vegetables with a surprising blue glare when stared at from the correct position. 

     She sat and ate; to no one's surprise, it was delicious. Spicy, rich, tender, she ate without a care in the world until it was all gone. None of him was left on her plate, none of him was left in her heart, and yet, she still felt hungry as usual. 

  

     

     Yvette dreamt that night, but this time it was of the past. She was back at the old bookstore where she used to work. Teary-eyed and with a bruise on her cheek, that was the day she met...him.

      She was zoning out until she heard a loud crash. A black haired boy dropped his open backpack, the contents spilling out as he tried to scoop them back in. People seemed to just walk over him, kicking him and impeding him in the process. 

     Yvette quickly walked over and helped him. She smiled, but he just stared without saying anything. She felt he was staring at her bruised face, so she just walked away.

      After her shift ended, she waited outside as rain began to fall, knowing no one was going to pick her up. She was alone in the silence, hearing the hunger in her stomach that she could never get rid of. Why was she always so hungry?

      She didn't bring her umbrella, and all she could do was look up into the abyss of the sky. The more she stared, the more she was engulfed in white noise, a silence she wanted to be a part of. What was this feeling of nothingness? 

     But before she could find that answer, she felt a touch on her arm. Black hair and rosy cheeks, the bluest eyes that could rival bluebonnets, were offering her an umbrella. He was shaking as his skinny frame appeared afraid of her response. Yvette could only wipe the tears from her eyes as a smile crept on her face. When he saw this, relief appeared on his face.  

     After this, they kept seeing each other. Opening up a little by little, they found themselves relating to one another. Both coming from abusive households, they found solace in each other's company. 

     When they turned eighteen, they both ran away from their respective homes. Starting from nothing, they did all they could to earn and raise enough money for themselves: from picking up extra shifts, selling their hair, selling their blood and plasma, and signing up for paid studies. 

     Then, as if by a miracle, they were able to get a place to call their own. It was run-down and had roaches, but it was a roof over their head, and they were together. She felt her heart engulfed in warmth, completely dizzy with happiness. Then, the hunger slowly stopped.

     A while after that, both started to attend community college. Working and studying, sleep was a dream within a dream, but with luck, he was able to get a decent job from a connection he had made. Thus, he began to support Yvette as she finished her degree, and she soon became an intern at a government agency. Finally, they felt they were moving up

     Every day, they made a new memory that replaced an old, painful one. They laughed together, ate together, and shared their ideas and dreams. He whispered I love you's into her ear, gave her gifts, and admired her. She devoted herself to him and took care of him, making sure he never felt neglected. Both expressed themselves in their own way to show their appreciation and love.

      As time passed, Yvette saw how handsome her beloved became. However, as his looks became elevated and his success apparent, his eyes began to wander. 

     He never received attention like this before, and compliments from other women became more frequent. Just like how he was sweet and attentive to her, he couldn't help but treat other women the same way. And just like his eyes wandered, his hands, lips, and the rest of his body followed. 

     After the first affair, Yvette saw herself forgiving him. He proclaimed that his body and heart were different because she was his one and only, the only thing that made him happy. She believed him. 

     But he felt she forgave him too easily, and jealousy began to sprout. If she was seen conversing, talking, or even being courteous to other men, he became angered, but he never screamed. He asked her to limit these interactions, and she agreed. But the affairs continued.

     As Yvette witnesses the same cycle with him, her hunger came back. She began to panic, and in her fear and panic, Yvette found herself biting him as he slept. 

     She could feel the texture and warmth of his skin as she bit down. Her teeth scraped against his skin as her tongue licked the blood seeping through.

      He quickly shoved her away, as he awoke in disgust. Yvette was sent flying as her back slammed onto the corner of the bed frame. His eyes showed complete rejection, but soon softened as he helped her up, then slapped her across her face, "Don't ever fucking do that again".  She could only stare as he calmly went back to bed, her mind going blank as she tasted the blood. She had never tasted something so sweet.