𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫❞

(i) Twin of The Night

The crisp and cold town welcomed the onset of winter and rejoiced as their most awaited eve drew closer. One could see the changes the season had brought to the town; people wore coats and scarves equivalent to their weights. Winter tide washed over the green and red with a beautiful layer of white. The town was at its serenest, with the milky skies and snow.

The air was filled with a sweet smell of scones and coffee, clashing with the tangy smell of barbecue and the smoky bonfire. Young couples could be seen cuddling cozily on the sofas through their clean glass windows, and several children could be seen being ushered inside by their mothers with a heartwarming worry. Aged men were briskly rubbing their hands together while walking back home from the poker club. The streets were emptying just as the twilight hit the roofs of the shops and houses.

The spirit of the town boomed with an overriding joy that could be seen making its way to everyone's faces as a blush pink tint and raw red nose, along with a warming smile.

It had been just a few days since the vintage house had been emptied when a car drove inside it. The cottage sang of grace and tradition, with its brown bricks, creeper-covered walls, and a small garden, all surrounded by a wooden fence. The car paused, parked, and out got a young boy in his early twenties. His looks were breathtaking; it wasn't daily that the town witnessed such a young and pretty boy drive in to reside with them. His brown hair, as soft as silk, fringed just above his hair. His pale brown skin was as fair as morning, and his almond eyes were as enchanting as twilight. He smiled at the sight of the pretty little house and got out of his car with his luggage, which consisted of a few bags.

House 36, South Ash Street had a new resident - and a beautiful one at that.

He went inside and appreciated how well the furniture had been set by the movers. He took to arranging the items in the kitchen - the stove and the warm black color went well with the white kitchen counter. He also pushed the refrigerator to his desired place, by the window, and got into the bedroom to fix a few things. It took him around three hours to set things in place, and he felt slightly tired from the effort. Nonetheless, he had a cold drink and sat down on the sofa.

Settling into his new house, Rowan rang up his parents. Exchanging a few words, they decided to retire for the night. Rowan, it seemed, had other plans.

He had spent his entire life being an ideal son to his parents. He never regretted following their words, but it left him with no choice of his own. He loves his parents and wished to make them happy with everything he did, but his own joy had been an emotion long neglected. He felt overwhelmed due to the lack of happiness in his life at times and wished to get away from everything and everyone. He'd finally found a way to distance himself from the wills of his parents without hurting them while earning himself the long-yearned freedom.

He was now free to do everything he had wanted to. He could try out different cocktails his parents had forbidden him from. He could attend house parties and sleepovers with his friends but his parents never let him do. He could paint on the kitchen walls to his heart's content without having to hear discomforting lectures from his parents. He could play his favorite genre of music in the house, not worrying about his parents coming to his door and yelling at him to shut it down. He could watch web series to his heart's content into the late hours of the night, without his parent's continuous protests.

He could get himself a life, finally, without his parents blowing it up and making him live something he didn't want to.

He set out for a stroll, wearing a soft brown hoodie and a white scarf, with black boots that plodded through the thick layer of snow. It had been something he'd always wanted to do, but his parents rarely allowed it. But today, his heart was rushing with a different feeling; a feeling of unbridled joy and vitality, which he couldn't curb any longer, but wanted to unleash upon himself and everything around him.

He smiled as he looked at the bright moon, shining upon his newfound freedom, and went on into the night.

The night was dim, though lit up by the white orb, and the snow gently poured down from the brink of paradise; the air smelled of roses at night, and of croissants and cakes that the baker popped out of the oven, for putting out tomorrow.

He felt at peace. If this wasn't what he wished for all his life, then he didn't know what it was. A small house, a little car, a sweet town, admission to a reputed university, and paired with all of these, freedom. It wasn't destiny, but rather, he worked hard to get a rank that got him here. One couldn't credit his fate, but only his hard work.

He tucked his hands inside the pocket and hummed a merry tune. He took in deep breaths, familiarizing himself with the smell of the air he was going to live in now. He noticed the small line of shops that continued down the alley. There was a small cloth shop, and a cake shop close by. A toy store display shelf caught his attention. It had a new toy laptop model on display - Rowan had wanted one of the same types when he was younger. He decided to buy it the next morning. He walked on, and the alley came to a silent end, where a small library was situated. It was set up in a sweet brown aesthetic that sent his heart into a frenzy. He couldn't wait for the library to open, so he could go in and choose amongst books and get lost in the solitude. He started back to his house after standing there for a few wistful moments.

This is perfect, he thought to himself. Nothing could ever bother him in this happy little town. He had finally made his way into his safe haven - his own sweet abode. And he would not let anyone ruin it for him. No one could bother him now. No one.

If only he knew how wrong he was going to be proved seconds later.

Rowan had almost reached home, when a bike zoomed past him, almost knocking him into his fence. Impulsively, he yelled at the biker, "Hey! You dumb idiot!" Not that he expected the biker to turn his bike in the house next to his own, park it there, and then stroll back to Rowan. He strutted across the street with a confidence that was starting to faze Rowan, but he wished not to show it to the stranger.

The young man was slightly taller and wore black boots, black denim, and a black jacket. His complexion was fair, as he could make out by looking at his hands and his face through the windshield of his helmet. The black seemed to compliment his physique and his features. He's twinning with the night, it seems, thought Rowan.

The stranger came closer, his proximity making Rowan somewhat uncomfortable, as he reverted due to an awful smell of cigarette smoke, maybe some rum as well.

'Say that again' the other spoke. By now, his gaze and aura had managed to make Rowan's mind malfunction, since he stood as still as a statue, mortified, his hands slightly shivering. the other took it all in and slightly smirked at the sight. He went away, and Rowan slowly proceeded to his house.

He got in and took off his coat. He ensured he'd locked the door well and arranged the small things he'd left in a mess. He put on his EarPods and played some soft music. He started setting the star-war figurines around the television. He busied his mind with the thought of tomorrow and tried to avoid the thought of the stranger he'd encountered. But he couldn't stop himself for long. He tried, but failed. 

Sitting down on an ebony sofa, he let everything crash upon him, and with heavy stress in his voice, he exclaimed, "My neighbor's that awfully good-looking, rude drunkard!?"

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