Status: Okay, so the whole 'get everything off my laptop' plan went to hell. The harddrive is messed up. All the chapters I'd written are gone. I don't think I'll delete ACA and I will probably continue it, but I can't say how long it will be before I do. I am considering redoing it completely.
A Cigarette Affair
Eyes on fire.
He’s grinning, carelessly, and Pippa wonders why. She can’t help but feel that he isn’t really happy, especially when she can see the darker emotions lurking just beneath the surface of the clouded, silver gaze. It isn’t until he shoots her a questioning look, a slender brow arched disdainfully, that she remembers his original question.
“O-Oh, um.. Sure,” she mumbles, one hand fumbling with her pack and drawing out a cigarette. Pippa holds it up to him and he takes it with a nod, pressing it to his lips and pulling his own lighter from the folds of his jacket. It’s a much nicer affair than her own plastic BIC, she notes, a rectangle of smooth edged silver that flips shut with a pleasant click.
He takes a long pull off the cigarette, sags against the wall. Somehow, he makes even this seem graceful. His eyes flutter closed and she can see him change, reviving at the taste, becoming someone else. It is all too similar to how she feels when she smokes, and she shifts nervously.
Lucian tilts his head, just barely, revealing the aristocratic curve of his jaw. For a passing moment, she imagines a lovely boy pressed up against him, tongue dragging across the pale expanse of his neck. It disappears and she is left with only the sight of him. A smirk taints his lips and amusement flickers in the piercing, grey depths of his eyes.
Pippa blushes, looks away. It isn’t as if fantasizing (and oh, how she despises that word) is new to her. Usually, though, she reserves such private thoughts for when she is alone. It is also generally out of bounds when it comes to people she knows. It only makes her more awkward around them. But her mind finds it hard to resist pairing beautiful boy with beautiful boy. She can see them, together. Lucian and some stranger, dark against light.
“What are you thinking about?” The words invade her daydreams and she glances up, startled. He is standing in front of her, closer than before, much too close for comfort. She stumbles back in her sudden shock and her gaze skitters to the side.
“I… nothing,” Pippa mumbles and her hands tap a nervous rhythm against the pockets of her jeans.
The cigarette dangles in his fingers, forgotten.
“I wanna know,” and he steps forward, closing the distance between them once more. Has he never heard of personal space? she thinks wildly, thoughts scattered at their proximity. Her eyes dart back and forth across their surroundings and refuse to meet his gaze.
“I-It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. You’d just think.. It’s gross.” It is hard to form her mouth around the words, always so difficult to talk to people, even worse with him. She smiles nervously. Can’t stop smiling. It’s a bad habit she’s picked up somewhere along the way. An expression that crosses her face when she’s embarrassed, scared, an effort to cover her real emotions. It makes her look like a fool, Pippa knows, smiling all the time.
“Why are you nervous?” he asks, and confusion furrows his brow. The question startles her, amazes her that he could actually see through it, and her eyes finally find his.
“I-I’m not…,” she protests and his frown deepens.
“You are,” Lucian retorts, then smiles. “And I’m sure it isn’t disgusting at all.” Not to me, she argues silently, but doesn’t voice the words aloud.
“You really want to know?” Pippa questions, and her fingers still briefly against the hem of her shirt. He nods. “I was… I was imagining you,” she admits finally. Her eyes move, finding the patch of asphalt between scuffed shoes. She tells herself that it‘s safe to look here and prepares for the crash of ridicule. “With another boy.”
Silence falls over them. She doesn’t dare look up, but the quiet is proving too much. Hazel eyes shift to his face and she cringes, unable to read the emotions there. The clock ticks, tortuously slow. Finally, his head tilts and a smile curves the edges of his mouth. His eyes narrow thoughtfully.
“Why?” That one simple word drags out between them. It’s a test, she knows, can feel it in the expectant hush of the air. Pippa doesn’t allow herself to hesitate this time and the truth blurts out before she can stop it.
“Because it’s beautiful.”
He nods, slowly, and something in his expression seems to shift. A hand lifts and presses the dying cigarette to his lips, brings it to life again with a deep inhale of breath. “Yeah, it is.”
-------
The rest of their time is spent in silence. Just as the sun begins to set, Lucian leaves.
Pippa pushes herself to her feet a little while later, collects her cigarettes, and begins the trek home. The sky is tinged by the barest hint of violet when she reaches the trailer, silent and dark, except for the single square of light that peers at her from her bedroom window. Her mom and stepdad are probably asleep, or laying in bed and watching one of their shows.
She decides to delay the inevitable a while longer and silently, so as not to wake the dogs, spreads out in the middle of the road. The cold of the cement seeps through her clothes, pressing pleasantly against her back. She is content, like this; watching the sky and listening to the quiet noise of nature. The moon hangs heavy against the velvety cloak of night, dripping milk-white light and looking down on the earth like some silent, serene mother.
This is peace, Pippa thinks, and smiles.
“O-Oh, um.. Sure,” she mumbles, one hand fumbling with her pack and drawing out a cigarette. Pippa holds it up to him and he takes it with a nod, pressing it to his lips and pulling his own lighter from the folds of his jacket. It’s a much nicer affair than her own plastic BIC, she notes, a rectangle of smooth edged silver that flips shut with a pleasant click.
He takes a long pull off the cigarette, sags against the wall. Somehow, he makes even this seem graceful. His eyes flutter closed and she can see him change, reviving at the taste, becoming someone else. It is all too similar to how she feels when she smokes, and she shifts nervously.
Lucian tilts his head, just barely, revealing the aristocratic curve of his jaw. For a passing moment, she imagines a lovely boy pressed up against him, tongue dragging across the pale expanse of his neck. It disappears and she is left with only the sight of him. A smirk taints his lips and amusement flickers in the piercing, grey depths of his eyes.
Pippa blushes, looks away. It isn’t as if fantasizing (and oh, how she despises that word) is new to her. Usually, though, she reserves such private thoughts for when she is alone. It is also generally out of bounds when it comes to people she knows. It only makes her more awkward around them. But her mind finds it hard to resist pairing beautiful boy with beautiful boy. She can see them, together. Lucian and some stranger, dark against light.
“What are you thinking about?” The words invade her daydreams and she glances up, startled. He is standing in front of her, closer than before, much too close for comfort. She stumbles back in her sudden shock and her gaze skitters to the side.
“I… nothing,” Pippa mumbles and her hands tap a nervous rhythm against the pockets of her jeans.
The cigarette dangles in his fingers, forgotten.
“I wanna know,” and he steps forward, closing the distance between them once more. Has he never heard of personal space? she thinks wildly, thoughts scattered at their proximity. Her eyes dart back and forth across their surroundings and refuse to meet his gaze.
“I-It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid. You’d just think.. It’s gross.” It is hard to form her mouth around the words, always so difficult to talk to people, even worse with him. She smiles nervously. Can’t stop smiling. It’s a bad habit she’s picked up somewhere along the way. An expression that crosses her face when she’s embarrassed, scared, an effort to cover her real emotions. It makes her look like a fool, Pippa knows, smiling all the time.
“Why are you nervous?” he asks, and confusion furrows his brow. The question startles her, amazes her that he could actually see through it, and her eyes finally find his.
“I-I’m not…,” she protests and his frown deepens.
“You are,” Lucian retorts, then smiles. “And I’m sure it isn’t disgusting at all.” Not to me, she argues silently, but doesn’t voice the words aloud.
“You really want to know?” Pippa questions, and her fingers still briefly against the hem of her shirt. He nods. “I was… I was imagining you,” she admits finally. Her eyes move, finding the patch of asphalt between scuffed shoes. She tells herself that it‘s safe to look here and prepares for the crash of ridicule. “With another boy.”
Silence falls over them. She doesn’t dare look up, but the quiet is proving too much. Hazel eyes shift to his face and she cringes, unable to read the emotions there. The clock ticks, tortuously slow. Finally, his head tilts and a smile curves the edges of his mouth. His eyes narrow thoughtfully.
“Why?” That one simple word drags out between them. It’s a test, she knows, can feel it in the expectant hush of the air. Pippa doesn’t allow herself to hesitate this time and the truth blurts out before she can stop it.
“Because it’s beautiful.”
He nods, slowly, and something in his expression seems to shift. A hand lifts and presses the dying cigarette to his lips, brings it to life again with a deep inhale of breath. “Yeah, it is.”
-------
The rest of their time is spent in silence. Just as the sun begins to set, Lucian leaves.
Pippa pushes herself to her feet a little while later, collects her cigarettes, and begins the trek home. The sky is tinged by the barest hint of violet when she reaches the trailer, silent and dark, except for the single square of light that peers at her from her bedroom window. Her mom and stepdad are probably asleep, or laying in bed and watching one of their shows.
She decides to delay the inevitable a while longer and silently, so as not to wake the dogs, spreads out in the middle of the road. The cold of the cement seeps through her clothes, pressing pleasantly against her back. She is content, like this; watching the sky and listening to the quiet noise of nature. The moon hangs heavy against the velvety cloak of night, dripping milk-white light and looking down on the earth like some silent, serene mother.
This is peace, Pippa thinks, and smiles.
♠ ♠ ♠
**Edit: I added a bit more to this chapter, just a little bit that I forgot when I posted it. Oh, and the boy's name is Lucian, Lukas for short. I think I forgot that at some point and wrote it in as Gabriel, but I like the original better, so--