Cigarette | l.p.

05

"Why do you distract yourself?" Morana asks, taking a puff from her cigarette. I look down, my cigarette between my fingers, and sigh.

"Because I hate the thought of rejection. I hate the thought of being pushed out, and alone, so a cigarette is my company." I say slowly, thinking about Kali. I take another breath from my cigarette.

"That is my life." She says quietly, looking down. My lips formed into a frown, sadness over washing me, realizing Morana lives with my fear.

"I-I'm sorry." I state, leaning closer to her. She jumps back a bit, exhaling.

"And then the rich feel sorry for the insane." She mumbles, looking up at the glass chandelier dangling above her. My eyebrows furrowed.

"That is definitely not the case." I scooted closer to her on the couch. Her gaze locked with mine, questioning me with her eyes.

"Then why are you sorry? I can't help that I'm schizo and depressed. I should be sorry. I should be the one that's always fucking sorry." Her voice rose as she stood from the couch. Her eyes watering, and her voice shaking.

Everything began to set in. Why she snapped at me, why she didn't realize I knew who she was. It was all finally piecing together.

"Morana, don't be sorry for something you can't help. Please just sit, and talk to me." I handed her the pack of cigarettes, trying to completely distract her from why she has so many outbreaks when she's near me.

I could see her chest rising, and her tears drying. Her face was loosing it's redness. She was calming down, because of me. And for that, I'm thankful.

Just yesterday, I was bringing her in for the first time, and now, shes consoling in me.

Her eyes began to soften as she sat down.

"Why am I like this Liam? Why am I so fucked up?"

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sorry this chapter sucks. and thank you to everyone with such positive impact and staying interested. it truly means a lot!