Cigarette Smoke // FILLIE

Concern

His smug expression fades quickly, a frown now taking its place.

"Millie, how did your father die?" Finn asks gently, his usually brooding eyes now full of pure, authentic concern and worry.

"Lung cancer," I answer flatly as the familiar, extremely painful boulder begins building in my throat; threatening to break.

I watch as Finn drops the cigarette from the fingertips, crushing it under his foot as he quickly grabs my hand to stop me from walking away.

Tears well in my eyes as he swallows nervously, a sob threatening to break from the boulder.

"I'm sorry, Millie."

I press my lips together, nodding as I hold back tears.

"It's okay, you didn't do anything." I assure as my hand tightens in his, my mind desperately begging for comfort.

He stares down at the burnt cigarette crushed by his foot.

"Do you want me to stop smoking in front of you?" He asks sincerely as his eyes trail back up to mine.

This boy.

I shake my head as a tear rolls down my cheek.

"It's okay, Finn- really." I protest knowing that if he stopped then there wouldn't be the familiar scent to greet me every time I'm with him, to engulf me in a cloud of memories that help me heal.

"Alright, let's get you home." Finn insists, beginning to strut forward before I grab the front of his coat to stop him, tears still streaming from my eyes.

"No, we can't. It'll kill my Mum to see I've been crying, let's  just- go somewhere for at least a little bit." I explain as I slowly release him from my grasp, letting go of his strong, protecting hand that somehow warms my chest when I hold it.

His eyes look around as his hand runs through his curls; the act, in no way helping to stop my growing attraction to him.

"Um- I suppose we could sneak through your window if you really want to avoid your mom. I just don't think there's really any other place to go, Brit." Finn states with a purse of his lips.

Sighing as I wipe away tears, I nod in agreement. "Okay, let's just go before anyone asks what's wrong." I insist, pushing my hands through my soft, poofy brown hair.

He nods as we then quicken our pace on our way back to my house in the early morning.

-+-

      The floor creeks under Finn's worn grey Vans as his foot plants on the carpeted floor of my bedroom.

A few moments pass of us waiting for my mother's voice, it doesn't come. With a relieved sigh Finn turns around to help me through the widow as I sit on the edge of the roof.

"C'mon, careful." He mutters as he grasps my hand firmly with a strong, protective grip as he pulls me inside carefully.

My feet finally on solid ground, I let out a breath I hadn't even known I was holding in. I sit down on the edge of my bed, Finn continuing to stand with his arms crossed over his chest.