Guns & Roses (WATTYS 2017)

nine - short & sweet

this is going to be a shorter shorter update because school sucks :)

Luka kissed me. 

Luka Vincenzo kissed me. 

On the lips. 

Holy...

"Gringita!" I look up to see Luka standing right in front of me, his eyes wide in confusion. 

"Oh, sorry." I had completely fazed off, thinking about...

"Focus!" He snaps and I stomp my foot on the ground like some deranged toddler. 

"Stop patronizing me, churro." I snarl. However, my attempt at a menacing voice comes out as a bit of a hoarse squeak. My voice is still raspy. 

"Carajo." He grumbles, reaching in his pocket and pulling out on of his usual cigarettes. 

"What does that even mean?" I ask with a huff. 

He doesn't respond, continuing to walk in front of me as he lights the cigarette and takes a deep deep drag. He holds the smoke inside his lungs for almost a full 15 seconds, and when he releases, it's as if he's releasing all his stress from his shoulders.

"Want?" He coughs slightly, holding  out a cigarette to me. I examine it for a moment. I've already proved that I'm not a goodie, but something inside me wants to accept it. There's something so warm about them. 

I take the cigarette from his hand, and I reach for the lighter but he shakes his head. 

"I let you touch my lighter last time because I wasn't expecting you too. But you should know that no one touches it except for me." 

"Wow, how noble of you." I mumble sarcastically, and we stop walking to allow him to light the cigarette. 

Okay, don't judge me, but the feeling of the dark smoke around my tongue and inside my mouth feels like a breath of air from my uncle's backyard, where I would run around catching fireflies as my mother laughed raucously with my uncle. Home. 

I take a short drag and slowly let the smoke out of my lungs, smiling peacefully as I do so. 

"So tell me, gringita-"

I stop walking and allow the cigarette to hang from my fingers. 

"Listen, churro, if we're suddenly going to be all buddy-buddy, learn my goddamn name." I snap snakily, taking another puff. 

"Okay," He whispers, drawing closer to me. He's staring down at me through his dark eyes like a panther stalking its prey. "Como te llamas, Gringita?" He mutters. 

Thank god for spanish 1.

"Katya." I respond quietly. 

"Katya." He tests the name, a slight but distinguishable smile creeping onto his sly lips. Damn he has nice-

"Stop staring, Katya." He smirks, and he turns on his heel, making me jog to catch up. 

"Anyway, Katya, you surprised me." 

"How?" I ask, genuinely curious. 

This conversation feels so friendly, so calm. I almost don't believe that the man in front of me is the Vincenzo who gets shot in the middle of a parking lot and kisses a girl against the wall of an alley. He seems...human. 

"Well, first of all," He says, giving a pointed look at the cigarette bud in my hand. "That." 

"Come on, you don't have to be a fucking cholo to smoke a cigarette." I snap back, remembering the word I heard countless times back at home. (Gangster)

"Nice one, gringa. Anyway, second of all, you didn't slap me back in that alley." 

Oh my god he's bringing it up. What is he doing?

"Kinda too shocked to slap you." I mutter, snubbing the cigarette bud under the heel of my shoe, and I brush my hands off against my jacket. 

"Ah." 

Awkward silence. 

Quick, Katya, say something clever. 

"You have piercings." 

Great job, idiot. You should win a nobel piece prize. 

"Observant." He gives me a half-grin, and a slight roll of his eyes. His eye lashes move with the motion, a fluid swish of ink black. 

"I meant-"

"We're here."

I freeze, only now realizing that we've made it back to the condominium complex, and we're standing in front of Luka's door. 

"What are we-"

"I promise I'll answer questions soon. But for now, keep your head down and make sure that no one in there sees your face." 

so so so so sorry that this is so short :)