I Breathe You In Like Smoke [Pierce The Veil- Mike Fuentes fanfic]

~Chapter 8~

So I needed a filler thingy cuz i didn't update for a while. Sorry it's short, but the next chapter will be dramatic ;D x

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~Chapter 8~

I was sitting on my couch watching What Not To Wear when I heard my door being unlocked. I looked at the door and watched as Mike walked in, holding two full plastic bags.

            “Please leave,” I murmured, looking back at the TV.

            He dropped the bags in front of me and sat down beside me. “You had a crappy day yesterday so today is going to be better.” He said, putting his arm around my shoulders. He was talking about how my father was being such a dick and fired me for a week.

            “Mike, I’m seriously not in the mood. I just want to be alone for a while.”

            “That’s too bad for you. Have you ever smoked weed?”

            I turned and looked up at him. He was sporting a cheeky grin as he winked at me. “No I haven’t and I don’t plan on it. Now if you’re here to turn me into an addict, I’m kicking you out and calling the cops.”

            “Fine, we won’t try that thing. You have a fireplace. Have you ever used it?” He asked, motioning to the fireplace the TV was mounted over. I had never really used it because I just used it for decoration. I’ve also been afraid to burn the whole apartment down.

            I shook my head.

            “Well, good thing I brought stuff to make s’mores,” he smiled and kneeled on the floor, getting chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows out of the bag, as well as sticks.

            “I’m on a diet and I refuse to eat off a stick,” I protested.

            “Suit yourself...” he murmured, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. He crawled over to the fireplace, and lit the logs that were in there with a lighter from his pocket. “You might as well come over here and enjoy the fire.”

            I groaned and got off the couch, sitting on the floor in front of the fire with him. We were silent for a while, before I gave up and grabbed a stick and a marshmallow. “I hate you,” I mumbled.

            He laughed to himself as we both roasted our marshmallows. “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “Talk about what?”

“About why you’re pissed at your dad.”

            “No.”

            He looked at me. “Isabelle, you can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist. As much as I don’t want to talk about it with you, I’m going to ask you anyways because talking about it usually makes it better,” he explained.

            “Your marshmallow is burning,” I said, nodding at his marshmallow that was now on fire.

            “Shit!” He pulled it out of the fire and blew on it, revealing the completely blackened marshmallow. He shrugged and began assembling his first s’more.

            I chuckled as I got my perfectly toasted marshmallow and made my first s’more.

            “How the hell did you get it so perfect?” He asked in disbelief as he took his first bite.

            “I guess I’ve just done it so many times,” I said, remembering when I was a kid and my dad used to take me and my siblings camping every summer. That was before my dad’s company made millions of dollars.

            “I’ve never seen you as the camping type.”

            “I hated it. The only thing I liked about camping was the s’mores.”

            He laughed and ate his last bite of his s’more. He watched me closely as I took another small bite, then he laughed again. “You got a little marshmallow on your face,” he said, showing on his face where it was.

            “What? Where? Why?” I frantically wiped every inch of my face. “Ok... it’s gone now, right?” I put makeup on my face, not food.

            He leaned in closer to me and soon enough his lips were on mine. All the other times he kissed me, part of me wanted it to end, and part of me wanted to keep him there forever. Right now I don’t want him to leave. I focused on the kiss and how his hand cupped my cheek. His breath tasted like cigarettes and chocolate.

            After he pulled back, I said, “there wasn’t any marshmallow on my face, was there?”

            He quickly shook his head and smiled cutely. “You know, soon I think we should go on a real date. Who gives a fuck what your dad thinks?”