Cigarette Smoke // FILLIE

A Blessing

m i l l i e

       "Are you going to let me inside, Brit, or did you open the window for a breeze?" The curly-haired boy remarks after watching me stand there for longer than necessary, fawning over his random question.

I blink quickly as a warmth rises in my cheeks as I step out of the way, watching as he easily maneuvers inside my room only navigable if your eyes are adjusted to the darkness of the night.

"Did you just come all the way to my house just to tell me you're okay with me calling you 'Curly'?" I ask through a giggle, watching as he shrugs lazily.

"I actually came to ask you what you would say if I told you I liked it, but close enough." He corrects while closing the window once fully inside.

"Anything else?" I ask, not that I mind his visit at 4:30 AM; although, if it were anyone else I'd tell them to screw off and leave me alone.

He presses his lips together while glancing over to my bulletin board, his eyes glazing over the Polaroid picture I took of him.

"If you want the truth, I'll tell you that I couldn't stop thinking about you and that fucking nickname, and I'll also tell you I think it might be a mistake coming here and telling you that." He confesses through a calm tone that lulls me like a rocking chair.

"Why would it be a mistake?" I ask curiously while biting my lower lip anxiously, watching as he takes a seat on my bed and takes off his boots.

"Because, Brit, I'm not really one to spend as much time as I've spent with you everyday." He admits simply.

"I don't see anything wrong with that. I mean, you are my boyfriend, right?" I mention sheepishly as the boy places his hands on my waist, looking up at me from his position at the edge of my bed.

"I don't know, but you sure want me to be, don't you?" He teases through a monotone voice that mimics the same emotionless tone I've heard from him since day one.

I roll my eyes at his teasing as I lay my hands on his shoulders covered by a grey crew neck, finding the cotton material soft to the touch.

"What kind of question is that, Curly?"

He snickers at the use of his new nickname before answering, "A valid one, Brit."

"Well, before you go any further- you should know I'm still annoyed with you." I mention abruptly as I carefully take his hands away from my sides before wandering away.

His eyes follow me as he clenches his jaw involuntarily, his hands lying in his lap lazily as I walk over to my desk and click on the lamp sitting patient in the corner of the wooden surface.

"I heard her say your name when she was telling us about what happened on New Years." I admit, my eyes still drifting on the soft off-white light that lingers over the dark wood.

A few moments pass without any response, causing my sight to slowly waver towards the boy whose body faces the window mindlessly.

"She tried to fix it- said that she thought Jack was 'fine', but I'm not a dumbass. She said your name, Finn." I press, keeping my voice relatively low in case of my mother hearing us from down the hall.

"I don't want anyone else, Millie, only you. Sure, yeah, I fucked up by kissing Ayla- but it's not like that should change anything, should it?" He reasons, turning his body so that he's slightly facing me with those dark eyes of his reflecting in the moonlight flooding in from my window.

"So it shouldn't change my feelings? The hurt you give?" I spit, struggling to keep my voice lowered as I whisper out every word with as much anger possible.