Boys of the Dark | ✓ (2015)

3. The Boy with the Heart Shaped Cookies

"This is the crib of Lovey G," Paris said with wide arms. He turned and smiled. "And by that I mean, my fake mom's rented apartment that HB and I share."

Delilah walked into the room, shoes pressed into the white carpet as her eyes blinked back to adjust to the pink walls.

"Is Barbie your interior designer?" Melon Head asked, running his hand over the pink, plastic dining table.

The door clicked shut behind them and Paris hung his coat on the rack. He reached for HB's coat who shrugged him off with a glare, taking the coat off herself.

Paris just smiled and did a little dance down the foyer. "Welcome to my home! This is where the magic happens!" He winked. "My parents aren't home, ladies. And Melon Head."

"What is that?" HB said. They turned towards the big red spot on the floor, it pooling through the cracks of the tiles and down a stream to the bathroom.

"Blood," Delilah answered.

"My mom is menstruating," Paris said.

HB smacked her boyfriend in the arm and Delilah wrinkled her nose.

"What an interesting thing to tell your guests..." Melon Head spoke.

Paris laughed and walked over the red stain. "Nah, it's probably just red dye. The fake mom was dying her hair in the tub this morning and she probably didn't have time to clean up the mess."

Delilah gave HB a questionable look as they followed him to the pink exploding living room and kitchen. "What's with all the roses?" She gently touched the seventh one she'd seen in this apartment, it resting in a glass vase. It smelled pleasant.

Delilah hated pleasant.

Something cold floated from the bottom of her nose and she startled back, a silver platter coming up her face. "Cookies?" Paris asked, waving a plate of heart shaped goods.

"Does the Devil even eat cookies?" HB asked.

"Fuck yeah," Delilah replied. She grabbed a handful and cradled them close to her chest. "What do you think I'm on? A diet? Cookies are the next best thing to cocaine." Crumbs fell in the imprints of her feet that her boots left as she trekked across the kitchen.

The furry couch made her sneeze as she collapsed onto the pink monstrosity, feeling a sharp object poking her butt. "For seven sins..." She grumbled, moving herself over and plucked out a card. "An ace?"

"My mom probably had her morning poker rounds with the moms of the street," Paris explained. He tried to feed HB a cookie, but she swatted it away, smacking the cookie to the ground.

"I'm like a ninja," HB told him, waving a serious karate hand in his face.

Delilah used her boots to push aside an ash tray still wafting of smoke and laid both feet overtop the plastic, dollhouse-like table.

"Just try not to make a mess..." Paris began, but Delilah was already munching down the delicious treats.

"Mhm," she distantly agreed, too engrossed in the doughy snack. She groaned. "Yep. Tastes just as good as cocaine."

"By the way," Paris said. "Don't tell my mom you're the Devil from the underworld or else she'll flip her shit and send the gooney demon police bums after you," he casually stated as he tried to drive another cookie train into HB's mouth.

"Noted," Delilah said and took another bite.

Two sharp beeps came from the foyer and no one turned towards the noise. The hook squeaked as another coat draped over it and heavy footsteps advanced to the kitchen. Delilah was going to turn her head towards the noise, but a chocolate chip fell down her shirt. She dug a finger between her boobs and fished for the piece, afraid it'll melt in her bra.