Trash of the Count's Family Anthology

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Cale's quiet even snores filled the silent room. Alberu leaned back in his chair; stretching his hunched back. 'That's going to hurt tomorrow.'  He grimaced then rolled his neck in circles with groans every time he heard a cracking noise. He looked over to the peacefully sleeping red head that took up his bed. His annoying dongsaeng had crashed into his room, not even bothering with a hello before falling onto the bad and curling up. 

Despite himself, he gave a soft smile as he watched his dongsaeng pull the pillow closer to himself in his sleepy trance. He then became aware of the box in his pocket. It was only a cardboard box and it's contents were hardly heavy; but suddenly it felt as if it was made of lead.

 He pulled it out from his pocket, and pushed the shelf of cigarettes out of the branded sleeve. He looked at it before looking at the bed. He weighed the consequences out before taking a cigarette out. He got out a box of matches from a drawer in his desk.

The king was not one to smoke. He had never done it before. But he was curious; why did people smoke? Surely a burning stick near your lips would not be appealing, but then again, maybe it was something only those who experienced it would understand. Maybe it was something he wasn't human enough to understand. Maybe he should try.

 He was out on a late night expedition in his natural form when he came across the stand. It was one he had walked past on multiple occasions and it wasn't anything special. But something in him possessed him to point at the boxes and ask for one. He listened to the seller warn him about the possible ailments that came with smoking, even going as far to not recommend it, and yet he bought them anyways. He didn't know why he did so. Maybe he was just stressed, and it was a moment of weakness. As soon as the boxes of cigarettes and matches fell into his hands, a strong sense of foreboding crept up his spine.

He hadn't planned to smoke them. Not at first. He planned on throwing it away, knowing how disappointed his aunt would be if she ever found them. But she was on vacation at their hometown. He could throw it away later, right? He was going to put it in his drawer, but he thought better of it. What if someone found it and spread rumours about him? He didn't need any chances of ruining his near-perfect reputation he worked hard for. He seemed to forget that any servant going through his draws would be an act of treason, and they would have a much bigger problem on their hands then their king smoking.

So he kept it in his pocket, ignoring it for a while. But the temptation grew. So now he found himself rolling the cigarette between his two fingers, contemplating whether he should light it or not. 'One smoke couldn't hurt... right? Just to see what it's like.' He sucked in air between his teeth, the cold was welcome before he came to his decision. He put the cigarette between his lips before taking out a match from the box. He struck the match against the side of the box. Once. Twice. The third time he found himself looking at the small glow at the end of the stick. 

Cale stirred. He licked his lips, waking himself up. 

Alberu brought the match to the cigarette between his lips, watching as the end turned red and burned. He shook the match and put it out. He sucked in, the smoke filling his senses. He could feel the heat, taste the smoke, smell the burning paper. His eyes burned with the feeling of the smoke's tendrils wrapping around his neck and down into his throat. He parted his lips and took the cigarette back into the space in his fingers; already used to the feeling of the cigarette. He breathed out, barely avoiding a cough. 

"...Hyung?" Alberu panickedly looked up. The sleeping figure was now rubbing at one of his eyes before blinking. "Are you smoking?" It almost sounded like a joke on his lips; a teasing tone lathering his words. Then his eyes focused on the cigarette in his king's hand, and the guiltiness he wore all over his face. His eyes widened.