Our Bruised Bodies | Bradley Bradshaw

ACT FIVE - PART TEN

"You stopped smoking." Jake said, leaning on the balcony of his hotel room, as Grace stepped out of the room to join him on the balcony. He was holding a cigarette between his thumb and pointer, inspecting it closely, as if it had personally offended him, only to feel Grace's hand on his, taking the cigarette.

"Yes." She agreed, after taking a long drag, exhaling the smoke upwards. "But I'm a fucking liar, so..." She trailed off, which caused Jake to snort, the answer unexpected.

"You on the other hand, never smoked." Grace pointed out while passing the cigarette back and forth.

"Well. Special occasion and all that." He muttered, before turning to look at Grace.

She had kicked off her heels a while ago, now walking in just thin tights over the warmed tile floor that remained even though the sun was setting now. The tights were black, causing her long legs to appear even milker in their white tone. He liked when she was wearing her hair down, allowing it to spill over her shoulder like a waterfall of pale gold. Jake also found he quiet liked her in civil clothing, the black dress hugging her curves. He looked away then.

Grace was his friend, he couldn't keep ogling her like that.

"Do you want to get drunk?" Grace asked him, which caused Jake to glance at her once more, the cigarette passed back and forth between them once more, before Jake stumped it in the ashtray and Grace pulled a fresh one from a pack, the cigarette between her long fingers, her perfectly manicured nails painted in a pale rose tone, barely noticeable, but it gave a contrast to the white of the cigarette. Grace was a work of art, Jake decided there and then. It was unfair really. Bradshaw had no idea what he had there, being married to the most mesmerising woman he had ever met.

"No." Jake said, while he watched Grace as she took the cigarette between her pale rosy, red lips and brought the lighter up to light the cigarette. She glanced at him, the task of lightening a cigarette automated over the years. The youngest Kazansky didn't even had to look.

"Are we going to have a heart to heart then?" There was mockery in her voice, a light tone though. As if she tried to lift the mood by ridiculing the situation.

"I don't have a heart." Jake replied.

"Oh, you do. That's the problem, isn't it?" Grace noted, her lower arms rested on top of the fall protection, her back slightly arched while she was watching the sun vanishing behind the horizon. It was strange to suddenly be back stateside, to see all this wide land, to meet new people in the passing the might never see again. Life on a carrier was different in every way.

"Ask me something else." Jake asked of her, which caused Grace to move her head and glance at him.

"That girl, Millie. Was she your girlfriend?" Grace wanted to know amusement sparkling in her eyes as she stayed in the position, looking at him, her expression telling him that she found it funny that the girl had been with him, which rubbed Jake all the wrong ways. It offended him, that Grace thought it laughable that he could be with a girl and be serious about it.

"Why are you so amused by it?" He asked annoyed, which caused Grace to straighten up only to turn around and lean her back against the railing.

"Because she clearly didn't get the message." The youngest Kazansky told him, wondering why Jake wanted her to spill is out when it was so overly obvious to her in the first place.

"Neither did you." Jake muttered after turning around and walking inside which caused Grace to furrow her brows, only to take one more drag before putting it out and leaving it in the ashtray on the balcony.