Addict. (DNF ANGST)

Chapter 17

♡George pov♡

My body hurts. I need to shoot up. My cigarettes are all I have.

I sat on the edge of the bed. I looked over my shoulder at Clay. He was facing me. His lips were slightly parted, and he was shirtless. I admired the muscle on his body.

What?

I leaned closer to look at his arms. There were thick, dark scars on them.

How did I never notice these? What are they from?

My body ached. I stood up and grabbed my cigarettes. I grabbed the key to his dorm and slipped it into my pocket. I left his room, shutting the door quietly behind me. I walked down the hall and down the stairs. I left the building and sat down on the steps. I dug my lighter out of my pocket and pulled a cigarette from the pack. I placed it in my mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply.

I like the way he treats me. It's nice. It's different.

I smoked around half the cigarette before I heard the door open behind me. I quickly turned around, relaxing once I saw the disheveled blonde hair and green eyes. He had pajama pants on and a t shirt.

"Hey." He said.

"Hi." I replied.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked.

"Smoking." I stated.

He nodded and sat next to me. I didn't offer him a cigarette because I remembered he didn't smoke. I took a long drag off of it.

"Why do you smoke?" He asked.

I've never been asked that before.

I shrugged.

"I started when I was fifteen and just never stopped, I guess." I told him.

"Fifteen?" He asked.

I nodded.

"I used to steal them from my dad." I stated

"When did you start smoking weed?" He asked.

"I tried it for the first time when I was thirteen. I didn't start actually smoking it until I was sixteen." I explained.

"You don't do anything else, right?" He asked.

I could feel his eyes staring at my face, but I kept mine straight ahead. I put out my cigarette, and some of the ash hit my ankle. It burned, but I didn't care. He didn't say anything.

"How many people have you slept with?" I asked.

He seemed a little taken aback by the question.

"Five." He stated.

"Did you love them?" I asked.

"I loved two of them." He told me.

I nodded.

"What about you?" He asked.

"You're going to think I'm disgusting. It's thirty-six." I told him.

I glanced at him. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"You don't disgust me." He mumbled, kissing the top of my head.

How?

"Did you love any of them?" He asked.

I shut my eyes and sighed.

"One." I said softly.

His thumb gently rubbed against my waist.