Torment || l.s.

3. Sardonic

Louis' POV

I slam the door shut. "Jesus!"

The sound echoes through the empty halls, magnifying each step I take. "Well, that was interesting," I snort under my breath. It takes a quick slam on the button for the lift to arrive, and I enter, tapping my foot on the floor. I huff, when it reaches the ground floor, exiting as fast as I could, never looking back. I was just trying to lighten the atmosphere. What's so wrong about that?

My fingers itch for a roll, its tips tingling for something to hold- something tangible I could steady myself with. I feel tightness in my chest, squeezing me inside out. I fucking need it now and I try to walk faster -right, and then left in quick succession. I try to avoid the field, skirting around the edges of the campus, staying close to the fence.

I reach the entrance gates and I wave at Josh, giving him a signal. He smiles and nods as he opens the school gates. I begin to turn right, shuffling my bag to my left shoulder before taking out a packet of cigarettes from my right pocket. I light it, holding the stick between my thumb and index finger. I take a drag, savoring each second the smoke stays in my lungs before exhaling it. Fucking finally.

I feel leagues lighter than I did minutes ago. I take several more drags before turning left into a narrow alley. It's still damp from the slight drizzle last night and I turn at a corner, hidden between two run-down buildings. The cemented walls are littered with undecipherable graffiti, a dead-end at the edge of the backstreet.

I can breathe now, body sagging against the hard wall. I take drag after drag until I finish my first stick, taking another one from my packet and then lighting it. It's nearing dark and I take a look at my watch; a few more minutes until Zayn arrives. The light filters into soft hues of gold, producing long shadows, trapping the narrow alley into near-darkness. I exhale, watching the smoke swirl into curls of grey and white until it fades into the cool night air. Where the fuck is that arse?

"Hey, over here!" I see Zayn approach me- hands tucked into his pockets while his face was obscured by the dim light. I take a final suck at the stick in between my thumb and fore finger. I exhale, throwing the unfinished half on the wet ground, putting it off.

"You know what's funny?" He says, eyes dancing with mirth as he holds up a small pack from what he ordered awhile ago towards the sunlight. We crouch down, leaning on the wall as we placed weed on the strips of paper from my packet of cigarettes.

"I know what you're thinking." I bend the end of the roll and began lighting it. He chuckles blowing at the end of the roll, shaking his head as he lets his eyes close.

His voice is rough and mellow as he breathes out, "Our job is to cure people, but look at us. A Gastroenterologist and a Psychologist sharing a pack of weed. It's fucking insane, right?"

"No, it isn't," I turn my head towards his direction, blowing out a puff. He coughs as he breathes in, and I let out a chuckle, feeling my muscles relax. "We've got a right to smoking as much as the other guy."

I hear Zayn smack his lips as he exhales. I inhale the smoke, exhaling it immediately as I take a good look at the joint, end lighting up, "It's a fucking free world. There's no one stopping us. Besides it's their choice if they want to smoke weed and cigarettes and do other drugs, just like it's our choice, too. Doctors can smoke just as lawmakers can break the law."