5sos Imagines

Cigarette Smoke (A.I. Imagine)

Warnings: Cussing, mention of smoking

Ashton's POV
One Year Ago
Every day for a week, my three idiots of best friends and I would go to the park, sitting on a bench we'd claimed as our own and watching random passerby. Occasionally, one of us would spot a girl we thought was cute and make an attempt to flirt with her, failing miserably. I'd tried one or two times, but of course it didn't exactly work well. I wasn't great at flirting. That day was no different. My friend Calum was sitting on the back of the bench, his feet resting on where your butt was meant to be, and Michael was in the same position as him. They'd only left enough room for Luke to sit on the edge of the wooden bench, and I'd offered to just stand. It seemed calm, until change came crashing into my life.
Literally, crashing.
A girl with bright blue hair that came down to her shoulders was speeding towards me on a skateboard, presumably from the skate park that was beside the regular park. I hadn't noticed due to my fixation on Calum as he described how he'd seen the most adorable puppy that someone was walking the other day, but before I had a chance to respond to the sudden yell of "Get the fuck out of the way!" I was knocked to the ground.
When I realized what exactly had just happened, the girl was already back on her feet, barely giving me enough time to take in her appearance of black skinny jeans with rips all over them and a sleeveless shirt with a logo I recognized as AC/DC on it. I sat up on the paved walkway of the park, staring at the girl who seemed to be in such a rush she couldn't even be bothered to apologize for bowling me over. Or pick up her bag for that matter.
The girl had already sped off on her skateboard without the drawstring bag that had fallen off her shoulder during the endeavor with the paved walkway of the park. I wasn't sure what was in it, but I assumed I should return it. Without giving any notice of what I was doing to my friends, I took off in a sprint in the direction the girl had left.
"Wait!" I shouted after her as best I could, my breathing ragged and uneven from the running. I kept up the pace, determined to reach this girl. She glanced over her shoulder for only a moment, strands of blue hair blowing in her face, before her head had turned back to watch where she was going. I'd almost reached her now, only a few more feet. Then as suddenly as she appeared, she veered to the right and vanished from my sight. I mimicked her path and turned right down an alleyway, only to be met by the same girl's hand over my mouth. She held one finger against her lips and looked to be watching the main street for something.
After a few minutes of silence, two big, burly guys raced past the alleyway without a second thought, and I got the idea that they'd been chasing her for some reason that only God knew. The girl seemed to relax at this, her posture visibly becoming less stiff. She removed her hand that was over my mouth and the finger over her lips, and she turned her attention to me. The instant I saw her face, her eyes completely captivated me. They were a warm honey brown that looked to be flecked with gold, and there was a glint in her eyes, a sparkle I'd never seen in anyone's before. Or maybe it was just a light reflection, but a sparkle sounded more romantic.
"Is this your bag?" I finally asked after breaking myself out of the trance she'd put me under without even having to speak a word.
"Yea," is the only confirmation I got before she'd grabbed the bag from my hands.
"What's inside it?" At this question, her gaze lifted from the bag to my eyes again. An amused smirk turned up the corner of her lips and reveals a deep dimple on her flushed cheeks, and she pulled open the bag to reveal the contents to me.
"Toilet paper?" There were several rolls of toilet paper all piled into the bag. That wasn't what I had been expecting. I wasn't sure what exactly I expected to see in there, but it definitely wasn't toilet paper.
"I may or may not have covered those guys that ran past's house in toilet paper." Even her voice sounded beautiful with its amused tone and slight rasp to it. I could pick up on a hint of smoke from her, so I guessed the rasp was due to smoking.
"And you got caught," I pointed out with a smile of my own tugging at my lips.
"Well, yes, but I outran the trouble," she countered with a sly grin on her face and a few strands of vibrant hair falling across her features.
"Out-skated, technically."
"I could've out-skated them a lot easier if someone had moved out of my way."
"Sorry about that."
"I'm kind of sorry for running you over." Her eyes were trained on a store across the street from us, but I knew that she still wore that teasing smile.
"Kind of?" I could tell she wanted me to ask her that, she wanted me to feed her ego and play along with her games, and I did.
"Otherwise, I wouldn't be sharing a beer with you."
"But we're not sharing a beer."
"You're right. I'm getting ahead of myself by about five minutes."
And that's how I wound up sitting across from a girl I didn't even know the name of in a bar I'd never been in with a glass filled to the brim with beer placed in front of me.
"So what's your name?" I finally asked the girl just one of the many questions that were swirling through my mind right now. I wanted to ask her all of them, but I didn't want to come off as nosy.
"Samantha. Call me Sam," she replied casually and as if she'd been expecting the question. I was expecting her to ask for mine, but instead, she only crossed one ankle over the other knee and took a long drink of her beer. So I took the chance to ask another question.
"Are you new here? I know most people in this town since it's a pretty small place, but I've never seen you around," I questioned Sam, studying her features, posture, clothing, everything about her. Every aspect of this girl was perfect in her own way. She wasn't the kind of girl you'd typically see on the cover of a magazine with all her tattoos and the nose piercing she had, but something about her made her insanely attractive.
"I am. I've only been here about a day. You're the first person I've really talked to here," she told me before bringing the glass to her lips again and taking another sip. Something about the fact I was the first friend she'd made here gave me a feeling of being special to her in some way.
"Where are you from then?" This question made her set down her glass, and I got the impression this was a slightly complicated answer.
"I'm originally from Eagleville, Tennessee, but previously, I'm from Wilmington, New York," she explained to me, and her answer left me more than a little confused.
"Previously?"
"The last city I was in was Wilmington."
"How did you get from Tennessee all the way to Greigsville, New York?" She only shrugged at this question and looked to be in thought of what words she would choose to paint the story of how she wound up here.
"I move from town to town a lot, and I started a long time ago. Over time, I've just worked my way up to New York." So many questions had sprung into my mind. Like why did she leave her hometown? Why did she leave all the previous towns? Did she intend to stay in this town? Before I could've opened my mouth to ask any one of those questions, Sam asked her own question first.
"What's your name?"
The conversation became more regular, more small talk than anything else at that moment. We swapped a few details from our lives, but nothing deep. Just favorite colors and movies and what songs we listened to when we were driving in a car. Eventually, we wound finding out firsthand what songs the other sang in car, filling the front seats of the beaten up truck she'd rented and driving for hours. I could remember driving down a back road that barely had room for two cars to pass on it, and I remembered the sunset painting the sky in shades of orange and red, the occasional cloud blotting out the colors. But most of all, I could remember her eyes. Those eyes that were an even more beautiful sunset all their own, those honey colored eyes that sparkled when she was causing mischief.
But there were so many nevers. She never talked about her family, or anything else personal for that matter. Never showed any emotions past her usual smirk, grin, and sly smile. Never allowed me to come over to her house. Never used a phone for some bullshit reason that changed every time I asked. Never explained to me why she left so many towns behind. Never assured me she wouldn't leave this town, and me, behind. Whenever I thought of her, I thought of the ocean. She reminded me of those gorgeous waters that looked so beautiful on the surface. But the deeper you went, the less you could see and the more dangers that lurked in the protectiveness of invisibility.
Present
I'd gone to sleep with her warm body pressed to mine, the hint of smoke she gave off lingering in the air and filling my nose. I'd grown so used to the smoke, to having her close to me, that I barely even minded the smoke now. Her legs had been tangled with mine and covers strewn about over the bed and covering parts of our bodies. Her blue hair had been splayed out on the pillow, and the side bangs she always complained about but refused to get rid of were brushing her face. The assurance I'd wanted that she wouldn't abandon me had never come, but my mind had tricked itself into believing her presence beside me every night was enough.
I was wrong.
I wake up to normality. What I mean by this is that all signs of the exciting adventures that came with Sam were gone. The warm body pressed to mine—gone. The slightly prickly legs she'd forget to shave—gone. The blue hair that created so much contrast against the white sheets of the pillow—gone. Her gorgeous eyes, the tattoos I'd never learned the story behind, the glint in her eyes, the articles of her clothing that she'd leave covering my floor, her shoes that she'd throw on opposite sides of the room and then complain about not being able to find the matching shoe for, the tangled cords of her headphones she'd always ask me to unravel, the mischief, the excitement, the comfort, the beauty, all of it—gone. The greatest thing I think would ever be introduced into my life is gone. The only thing left behind to remind me of her is the smell of smoke lingering in the air, filling my nostrils, and slowly fading away just like all my memories of her.
Six Months Later
The days reverted back to a routine of dullness, and the only difference was the fakeness behind my smile and the aching in my heart. Just like people had anniversaries for things like dates they met, dates they got together, dates they did this, dates they did this. I have anniversaries for Sam. Anniversary for the day we met. Anniversary for the first time we kissed. Anniversary for the first time she brought me along on her mischief making. Anniversary for when she left. I get drunk on most all of those anniversaries.
I come home from a tedious day of selling people fried chicken in a ridiculous worker outfit for KFC only to find the door of my apartment unlocked. I didn't leave it like that. Had someone broken into my apartment? I swing the door open with caution, glancing around the dark room while the door creaked eerily. If this were a horror movie, I'd probably die in a few minutes.
Fortunately, I don't die, and I proceed to celebrate this by flipping the lights on and helping myself to a beer. This was my last beer, and I'd need to buy more soon if I was going to survive the pain that came with abandonment. I really hate beer, and I find it disgusting, but it was her favorite alcoholic beverage. Beverage. She always laughed at words like those, words that were the fancier version of much a simpler word like drink.
I slowly become aware of the feeling that something is off, something is different. All the furniture is in place, all my possessions intact. At least in what I'd seen of the living room. Maybe a murderer is hiding in my bedroom. So I gather the effort it takes to stand from the couch and drag myself into the room. Then it hits me. The smell of cigarette smoke, the association my mind made with that scent and Sam. Someone had smoked recently in this room, and it wasn't me.
It was Sam.
I check the room for possible hiding spots. No dice.
It had to be Sam.
I check the living room again for anything I might have missed. Nothing.
I need it to be Sam.
After searching for what feels like hours, I give up. It isn't Sam. She's not here. Someone had just smoked near the apartment, that's all. You aren't falling apart. You're okay, Ashton. You'll be okay eventually even if you aren't right now. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? Sam is gone, and she's not coming back, and I'll be missing her for as long as I lived. Part of me hated her for strolling into my life so casually, showing me something greater than I could ever achieve without her, and leaving.
I reside back to my room and fall on the bed with the one side that was ice cold from not having been touched in months, Sam's side. I dig my phone out from the mess of empty beer bottles littering the floors Sam's clothes used to cover. I unlock it by typing in the number of Sam's birthday onto the screen that had become cracked after so many uncontrollable emotional breakdowns, and I press the music app. I find the song, her song, our song, and I press play. The melody fills the room like her voice used to when she was awake at 2 in the morning and wanted to talk. One of the first memories I'd ever made with her floods my mind again. I can see it now: Sam's in the driver's seat of the truck that was on the verge of falling apart, a cigarette dangling from one hand, smoke pouring from her lips that were curled into the perfect smile, and a glowing sunset in her eyes.
Then I notice it, the slip of paper sticking out from where Sam used to hide money in the small crack between the bedframe and the mattress. I pull it out and scan over it once, twice, ten times, and I still couldn't process it. Sam's handwriting, the faint smell of smoke on the paper, the burned edge that must've been from her cigarette she was no doubt smoking while writing it. All it said was a sentence, but that sentence filled me with hope and completely destroyed me at the same time.
'P.S. I never told you, but I was falling in love.'

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I reallyyyy appreciate it :-) I'll be posting more of my imagines both from my writing blog and new ones, follow me if you'd like, like the story, show your friends! Thank you!