Achromatic

Chapter Sixteen

"Merry Christm-er, I mean, here you go, Murdoc."

2D's feeble hands held out a tiny box wrapped in red paper. Written scraggly in a black marker on the top read: "To: Murdoc". The older man gave him a suspicious glance, but hesitantly took the gift.

"You actually went and blew your money on me?" Murdoc muttered.

2D nodded. "Yep! Actually, I hadn't got much on me, so Russel lent me some. I just picked it out."

Murdoc examined his present, which was obviously wrapped by 2D; the paper was ripped in several spots and put back together by smaller strands of tape. The corners were also noticeably jagged and crumpled.

"Open it, Midori, Open it!" exclaimed 10 year old Noodle, who eagerly bounced up and down on Russel's lap. Murdoc ripped the packaging open, which revealed a small box of Lucky Lungs cigarettes.

"Huh..." Murdoc muttered. He looked at it with astonishment, as if he had never seen a box of cigarettes before. Of course, there was nothing special about his personal favorite brand, but it was meant for him, from 2D, and he didn't have to spend a single pound.

Murdoc glanced over at 2D, who insistently had his eyebrows raised and waited for a response. The bassist cracked a small grin and stuck the box in his pocket. "Thanks, D. I appreciate it,"

2D grinned. "Aw, see Russel? I told you he would like it!"

"Yeah, I know, D. That's the first time I've ever seen him smile," Russel said. "But we don't want you smokin' inside the studio, Muds; Noodle can't stand the smell."

Noodle shook her head in reply. "Icky stuff. Makes me cough."

Murdoc gave Noodle a small nod to tell her that he understood. "Sure thing, kid."

The best part about opening a fresh pack of cigarettes to Murdoc is always the perfect alignment of 20 white, identical sticks pressed side by side. He takes a couple minutes to run his fingers along them, feeling the bumps and rolls the cylinders make. Murdoc took one from the center, brought it to his lips, lit the end and inhaled...

Exhale. Indulge.

"Can I bum one, mate?"

Murdoc stopped for a moment. He is alone, at least that's what he thinks in his own mind. His head is still sticking outside 2D's bedroom window to keep his cigarette smoke out of the flat. That was his voice. Nobody else had a voice as defining as his. Murdoc shrugged and continued to inhale the cigarette.

Murdoc stops smoking for a moment and frantically jumps at the sound of 2D's voice. He turned around quickly, gulping and growing warm at at the sight of the singer towering above him. It is fairly dark outside the studio doors, but he can still make out the the charcoal eyes and vivid hair. Murdoc cleared his throat so he could speak clearly. "Should've bought your own pack."

2D crossed his arms. "Well, can I at least sit out here?"

Murdoc pondered the question for a moment; 2D was just complaining about how damn cold the weather was and how he would rather melt in the sun rather than live in Kong. Murdoc found it suspicious, but he decided to seize the opportunity. "Fine."

The singer comfortably took a spot next to the older man, sprawling his long legs out in front of him. Murdoc continued to smoke, but observed every move 2D made, from the way his shoulders slouch to how he bit his nails down until they bled.

Murdoc felt the blood run down from his thumbnail. "Shit." He spat out the nail he had chewed off and let it bleed and send a stinging sensation throughout his hand. He inhaled the cigarette once more, trying to numb his senses.