Marlboro Lights

f i v e

She refused to let him take away the last piece of pride she had. She had the pride of finally being thin. It's all she wanted. Of course she wanted to be even thinner, but she had gone a long way.

She continued to twirl her cigarette against the cold metal, even after she had put it out. He watched carefully, not saying a word in fear of saying something stupid, as he tended to do. He began to reach out to her before recoiling. Instead, he opted to pulling out the last cigarette that was sitting in his pocket. He placed it near her legs, and watched with pursed lips as she gingerly held it between her fingers.

"Light?" Her hand hovered expectantly, and he handed her the neon blue lighter he always carried with him. The butt of the cigarette glowed softly, reminding him of what he had first said as they reached the top.

She glanced at him with a raised brow and the cig hanging between her lips, and he noticed. He noticed the way her collarbones stuck out starkly behind a curtain of dark hair, and the way her fingers interchanged between holding the smoke and pulling down her sweatshirt sleeves, the way her brows furrowed on their own and her lips always sneered at all those who dare take a closer look.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer." And she smiled. It was a smile peeking through the edges of her smirk.

He pulled out his phone, opening the camera app to take a picture of the girl trapped by metal cages in every way. It wasn't a great picture and she didn't look absolutely stunning but it was genuine. He stared at the photo and she moved closer to him, pressing the side of her body to his, closer than ever before. The flash had given her face a pale appearance but had highlighted the shadows of her collarbones and the prominence of her cheekbones. Her lips were hidden behind her long feminine fingers that held the cigarette with what he had seen as grace. Her hair fell in her face in a mess of dark tangles, and dark eyes peered through the mass. Of course, the camera hadn't captured all the things he had seen and had instead produced a bare replica of her. They stared at the picture in silence before she spoke up.

"That's an awful picture. You are definitely not a photographer."

"Hey!" He stared at the picture for a second, "Yeah, you're right."

"I always am."

Then he scooted closer to her.