ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴᴇ // 𝐦𝐠𝐜 - 𝐚𝐟𝐢

CIGARETTE 3

CIGARETTE 3

The cool breeze of this Saturday morning hits my face softly, as I’m kneeled in my bed, elbows rested on the windowsill and Lana del Rey playing on the background.

It's relaxing. The way the cold wind seems to slash my bare arms while I contemplate the view of Bronx from my bedroom window.

'But you haven't seen my man,
You haven't seen my man,
You haven't seen my man,
You haven't seen him.

He's got the fire and he walks with fame,
He's got the fire and he talks with fame.'

Her voice brings me peace along with a soft smile playing on my lips. The winter breeze is breathtaking, but I don't move away from the window or bother to close it. I let it turn my pale skin ice cold, so I can say I’m colder than my heart.

Today Ashton woke up super early for a Saturday morning. He usually sleeps until noon on weekends because he arrives super late at night. Today was not the case.

He didn't even go out last night, which surprised me, but when i woke up this morning, he had already left. I remember him telling me something about these pictures he had to take, maybe that's what he went to do.

I move to get my cigarettes​’ pack from the bedside table and go back to my previous position. After taking a cigarette from the carton box, I place it on the windowsill. Before putting the cancer stick between my lips, and light it up, I let out a sigh, my eyes dancing through the buildings.

I finally take a deep drag from the cigarette as the music continues to play on the background.

'The sun also rises,
On those who fail the call
My life, it comprises,
Of losses and wins and fails and falls'

The smoke coming from the white and orange stick in my hand fades into the air.

Saturdays usually are good days and I wake up with a small smile on my lips. Not the case. I woke up just as unmotivated about the world and my life as the other days.

I don't even know why I even try.

I'm tire of trying. Before, I had a reason to keep going. Ashton. He was my reason. I know I still have him, but it doesn't feel the same.

Throwing the cigarette butt out the window, I close it and set up from the bed, walking in the wardrobe direction.

My eyes study my clothes. I take a pair of black skinny jeans out along with a oversized white sweater. I look at myself in the mirror and the purple bags​ under my brown eyes never looked so big and dark.

I barely slept last night. As Ashton slept like an angel, I started at him under the moonlight, how beautiful he looked.

I don't really use makeup, but today I’ll recourse to the concealer Elle gave me to hide the dark circles under my eyes. When I feel satisfied enough, I brush my hair with my finger carelessly and throw on a beanie.

With everything I need in my backpack, my jacket on along with my boots, I get out of my apartment.

Twenty minutes later walking through the Bronx streets, I decided to take the subway to Manhattan.