Cigarette Smoke // FILLIE

Unforgiving Force

m i l l i e

"I don't know, Brit, it's not like people are handing out gigs like we're celebrities, now are they?" He remarks through a snicker as he raises a brow, the flames of the fire reflecting in his dark eyes.

To that, I rest silent.

He's right, ever since Jack Grazer started getting under his skin and Finn quit listening to him, he hasn't given Calpurnia a gig.

And Finn didn't quite finish the gig at the rich-kid garage, either. Courtesy of me.

I begin to cross off all the places they could get gigs in my head, until I realize where we are.

"You told me you were looking to buy this place for your practices and gigs, so why don't you?" I ask aloud, honest curiosity flowing through my British voice.

Finn instantly lets out a humored scoff that almost passes as laughter, "Are you kidding? Millie, are you aware I have cancer? Do you know how much medical bills cost? For how much I'm paying, I might as well have a gig at the hospital."

Millie. I get called it everyday, and yet when I hear it from his lips, it sounds like a curse.

"Alright, I'm sorry, I guess I just don't want this whole thing to consume your life." I mutter guiltily, feeling like a child who just got scolded for getting too close to the stove.

He lets out a low, heavy sigh- if that's even possible- while glancing over to me as if he was questioning himself or hesitating against something.

"Listen, Brit, I get that you're trying to help me feel like I'm still okay, and I appreciate that, but don't you think it's a bit late?" He reasons, never actually expecting me to answer as he runs his fingers through his dark curly locks; I don't.

Instead I train my eyes on the fire before lying down on the mattress beneath me, allowing myself to relax in the cozy environment I lay within.

The mattress bares without any sheets, yet it still is as soft as ever with it's soft fabric lying over small hills of comfort. I let my lids slowly close, the simple act engulfing me in a warm darkness only accompanied by the crackle of fire.

"Thank you," I whisper out softly; not really realizing the words have left my lips as I feel my body melt into the seemingly magical mattress.

"For what, Brown?" A gentle voice replies curiously, a sense of delicacy laced through their words.

I only hum as a content smile forms in my lips, "Saving my life."

A light laughter follows my words, a laughter that lights a fire in my chest- one much brighter than the flames before me.

"You have no idea, do you?" His voice asks through a cheerful sigh, his words seeming to act like a form of secrecy despite his lack to question me further.

I only flutter open my eyes back to reality to admire the boy I just argued with merely minutes ago; funny how that works.

Sure, we argue, we fight- but I can't say I don't enjoy the feeling of him fighting against my curiosity and care. Hearing his sophisticated words and collected voice when he gives a point.. it's like crazy how one second I can want to strangle him and the next want to be in his arms.