Tarnished

Chapter 7

The first time he blushes will forever be engraved into my mind.

It happens after he slowly guides me to hold the smoke in the back of my throat — because apparently, it isn't a step we can work around — and asks when I don't instantly cough it out, "can you feel the smoke against the back of your throat?" obviously disbelieving as to the fact I finally got it after the fifth try.

The blush, two red splotches on his cheeks, fanning out across his nose like the stroke of a paintbrush, along with the transparent shyness he fails to hide has me immediately choking on the smoke in question.

One would think the cause would be his words since they are probably the dirtiest thing he has uttered so far. And I'm sure he presumes so too because he apologises profusely then sighs and grumbles for the millionth time, I should let him demonstrate.

I regain my senses at the idea of letting him within an inch of the weed and brush him off. "Continue with the dirty instructions please," I say with a cheeky smile.

He glares but the blush deepens. I laugh at his expense.

"Shut up or else I'll give you detention," he snaps. He tries to keep up a hard exterior but his twitching lips fighting back a smile give him away.

I startle, feigning fear and then I pretend to zip my mouth closed, lock it and hold out the key to him.

He stares at the imaginary key between my black painted fingers. "Your mouth needs to be open not zipped for this."

I suck my lower lip into my mouth to contain the laughter trying to claw its way out. I take back my previous words. By a long shot, this is the dirtiest thing he has ever said.

He cocks a brow, confused by my reaction. But then he seems to play his words back to himself in his head and his eyes widen with mortification.

That rips the laughter right out of my throat. I have never met a guy — a person so unintentionally funny. If there was an award, he would surely receive it.

He tries to snatch the joint off me. "Okay! Okay!" I pant out in the midsts of my hysteria. "Continue with the dirty lesson."

He sighs, exasperated but smiles and shakes his head a second later and continues with the dirty lesson.

After what feels like a million tries, I manage the faintest ring. I freeze watching the wobbly thing drift above my head then fade.

I snap out of my frozen shocked stature and squeal, "I did it! Oh my gosh! I did it! Did you see that? Please tell me you saw that!"

He squints up at where it was, his mouth slightly agape as if he doesn't quite believe his eyes.

I would take offence but I'm way too ecstatic to care. It wasn't perfect but it wasn't nothing.

"The dirty words helped," I wink at him.

I'm rewarded with another blush.

"Could be bet—." He cuts himself off. "You still need a little more practice but you made it so I want my reward."

I barely hear his words, as an urge I've been suppressing for the longest time hits its peak. Smiling from ear to ear, I secure the bud in the crook of my forefinger and middle finger and then I pinch both of his rosy cheeks.

I let out a satisfied breath. I've wanted to do that from the very first moment colour tainted his cheeks.

He suddenly goes very still. I think he stops breathing altogether.

The sight causes me to giggle.

He appears to snap out of whatever it was then and smiles and it is a beam of sunlight, illuminating the darkest corners of the room and something inside my chest.

With one silver band covered finger, he pokes the dimples on either side of my cheeks and I swear I feel the brightness explode inside my chest and move outward, filling my body with bright blinding light. I literally see it happen.

Oh, I'm high alright.

"Is cute part of the specialty?" He asks, his voice so soft it fills my cheeks with warmth.

A sudden shyness caused by his words creeps up on me as he stares down at me with a sly smirk on his lips. I think he notices because he pokes the tip of my nose.

I scrunch up my face and shake my head, answering his question, brushing away his finger, and shaking my head at myself — all at once.

Stray pieces of hair plant themselves on my face from the movement and I brush some away. "That's misogynistic."

He scoffs out a disbelieving chuckle. "Cute accounts for both genders." He looks at me like I'm stupid and for once I don't blame him. It was a stupid retort I should have repeated in my head instead of blurting the second it entered.

"I know but it was the only good comeback I could think of." I jut out my bottom lip in a pout and make my best puppy dog eyes. "Pretend it was good."

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, wolffish, amused. "You always have to win, don't you?"

I ponder his words. The girl I was wouldn't have cared about losing, but it seems the real me does. Or it could just be the result of the easy back and forth banter between us. Me being high could also be a factor.

Despite the dilemma, I tell him with a hundred percent conviction, "yes."

He rolls his eyes. "I figured as much."

I barely acknowledge his words, unexpectedly captured by this strange human's beauty. His dark curls falling onto his forehead and a couple extended stray strands trying to cling to the long lashes enveloping pools of whiskey and jade. Full pink lips, both the same size, neither one bigger than the other curved into a small smile. A smooth jawline sharp enough to cut if I were to drag my finger across it.

I'm so focused on his beautiful face I don't notice him reach for the joint.

My bubble of admiration bursts and I stretch my arm away from him. "Not yet. I didn't make a proper ring."

The eyes I was just admiring, narrow. "It's almost finished."

I pop a shoulder. "That's your problem, not mine."

"You're being unfair. You do realise I don't have to teach you. I can always go and drop another innocent girl and steal her weed. Hopefully, her innocent looks will resonate with her interior."

It takes everything in me to mask my disbelief. My first instinct is to call him a dickhead and maybe it's because of the high pleasantly buzzing under my skin and fogging my mind that I do something totally out of my new norm.

"Go then," I whisper, my eyes turning hooded as I inch my face closer to his, my eyes dropping to his lips. "I can always go find another guy to teach me how to make smoke rings. A real man. One who doesn't blush every time he talks dirty. One who does it on purpose, not accidentally." I've closed the distance between us with each word that has left my lips and now my lips are a hairs breath away from his.

I watch his lips suck in a sharp breath. I raise my eyes to his hazel ones, completely engulfed by his irises. I swear I see something in them snap a millisecond before the door flies open.

"Yo D...