Nicotine

Prologue

Artemis was the new girl that moved into the old house at the end of the block. She liked to read, write, and sing. She was in love with anything Disney, and music. She was shy and anxious, but always managed to keep a smile on her face. She was wise and careful, sweet and caring, patient and kind. She was hoping to cruise through her senior year unnoticed, that, along with many other things, didn't go as planned.

Blake was the bad boy who couldn't stay out of trouble. He toke risks, skipped school, and smelled heavily of nicotine. He loved everything dangerous, and anything risky. He wore a black leather jacket and combat boots, never toke his sunglasses off. He was tall and strong, scary and intimidating, shallow and cruel, or so it seemed. He was the mysterious bad boy who never expecting to get close to anyone, that didn't go as planned.

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He stepped closer to me, slow and threatening, like a rapid cat about to pounce. He came so close I could smell the nicotine on his breath, overpowering whatever cologne he could've been wearing. A shiver ran through my spine, eliciting a smirk to appear on his lips. One that sent a spike of fear, and intrigue through my mind. 

"You're the new girl right?" 

For the first time in those few minutes I looked up to respond, only to be stopped by his eyes, one blue, one a dark grey. 

"You're eyes...," I trailed off, stepping closer.

He angrily shoved his sunglasses back into their place, ignoring my comment

"Listen, newbie, I'm gonna take it easy on you, but stay out of my way, got it," he said seeming to glare at my from behind the dark glasses.

"They are beautiful," I said finishing my thought. He stepped back as I stepped forward, interested in the boy who seemed so scary until he was uncomfortable.

"My name is Artemis, but call me Arti. I'm assuming you're Blake, nice to meet you," I said sticking out my hand, completely entranced. 

He skeptically shook my hand, before pulling me into his chest. Sufficiently knocking the air out of me, and surprising me. 

"Be careful Arti, don't play with fire, you might get burned," he said looking me dead in the eyes. It was in that moment that I knew he was someone I wanted to know. He continued to look into my eyes, a smirk slowly creeping its way onto his face. 

He could sense the addiction before I could, by then it was to late. He was my nicotine.