Perspectives

Cigarettes

He sat up on the bed and grabbed a cigarette from the dresser. He ran his fingers through his hair and slightly glanced back. She caught his eyes and smirked.

„you're leaving?"

He grabbed his pants and stood up, putting them on easily despite still being a little drunk.

„No, just need a little air"

„so you are leaving?"

He chuckled as she rolled over and started searching for her underwear. They met at the edge of the bed. He had her underwear in his hand, she holding a lighter. She lit his cigarette, his beard tickling her fingers, as she took her underwear out of his grip. He charmingly smirked and left the room without a thank you. She found him on the balcony smoking his cigarette.

„Is there something?"

She asked curious.

„No"

He answered. He turned to face her, placing his elbows on the railing.

„Someone used to lay where you lay" he added unfaced. „that's all"

There was a short silence between them until she stood up, picked the cigarette from his mouth, took a drag and put it back. She liked the dark color of his eyes. In spite of his eyes being so dark he had so much color.

„thank you"

she said to him and turned away, putting on her clothes in the bedroom before leaving the 4th story apartment and walking home in the morning sun.

He crushed his cigarette on the rail as he always did and returned to the bedroom. The bed was unruly, the way he liked it with her. Not the girl who had just spent the unremarkable night, but the one who used to lay in it, sleep in it, love in it. They used to spend all day in bed, together, smoke cigarettes and make love. Her natural perfume after a sweaty night had been imprinted in the sheets. He had lain where she had, just to catch a glimpse of it again, but there was none to be found. He dropped onto the bed and fumbled for his cigarettes, catching one and lighting one. Smoking it in bed, as they used to do in the morning sun.