His Little Smoker

25| Stimulant.

Malibu

I nervously chewed at my nails looking outside the window, "Is he going to get out?" Tristian shuffled in his seat, "Or at least make an effort to walk in."

"I don't know..." I whispered breathlessly my heart pounding in my ears. Tristian and I were parked a couple of houses a way, my Dad in our driveway. Even though nothing was happening I was on edge, I felt like at any moment the door would open; and the reality of what was behind the tinted windows would crush me whole. "I'm sorry about all this."

I turned around and Tristian's frustrated expression melted away into concern. He reached over and rubbed my back drawing closer to me, "You don't have anything to apologize for, you're not the one—"

"No, the whole thing you had planned..." I found his fingers and intertwined them with mine, "Sorry."

Tristian chuckled and sighed, "Mal..." His hand on my back slowly rose up and settled on my nape. He pulled me close to him and kissed me, "You know what's the good thing about dating a quarterback?"

His lips always calmed me down, his breath against mine grounded me, "What?"

"We get shit done." He kissed me again and got out of the car, "You've waited on him for years, no more."

I panicked, "Tristian wait!" I opened the door and was pulled back into my seat, completing forgetting I had my seatbelt on. I yanked it off in frustration and tumbled out of the car. Tristian was already halfway to the house with his long strides, "Tristian!"

I jogged to catch up and mid breath a rumbling exploded in my chest. I stopped and crouched on my knees, releasing a fit of coughs. The burning feeling settling in my throat and chest weren't foreign. I tried to catch my breath, in hopes of settling the sensation that caught me out of nowhere. "Malibu." Tristian was crouched down next to me, his hand holding my hair away from my face, "Cough it out."

I nodded and felt what had been caught in my chest rise to the surface. I headed to the grass to let it out, and stood up taking a deep breath. I opened my eyes, tears streaming down my face, "That was fun."

Tristian embraced me in a hug and I tiptoed, my chin resting on his shoulder. "When will those end?"

"Probably..."

And there he was.

He had gotten taller in a way or his body more slinky, his face was now covered in hair, his hair long and tucked back in a ponytail. I let Tristian go and he followed my gaze, "Is that you Malibu Jones?"

I couldn't process what was going on in my mind. First waves of anger, but then sadness, hopelessness, more anger, before it all boiled down into a longing. I took a few steps towards his direction then a couple steps back. I took more steps back before eventually colliding into Tristian's chest. He wrapped his arms around me, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

My eyes remained glued on my Dad, he hadn't moved an inch remaining still in front of his car. I leaned my head back into Tristian's chest and closed my eyes for a second, "I want to. I've wanted to since that night."

I took another deep breath and started the walk towards my Dad again. I stopped a couple feet in front of him, keeping a sizable distance between us. Once closer I could see the wrinkles in his face, and the faint gleam in his eyes. He no longer smelled like cigarettes, he no longer smelled like, "Dad."

"I'm so sorry Malibu." He stepped out for a hug and I dodged it moving his arm to the side. "Okay..." He rested on his car again, "How's everything?"

I shrugged, "Shit." I sniffed, "I mean it's been looking up these past few months, but before then?" I looked him right in his eyes, "It's been shit."