enemies (with benefits) » l.r.h || completed

fifteen

WARNING: Sex scene. Not as graphic. Do not read if easily disturbed or uncomfortable with sexual content.

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Brian

"So, you two are finally together?" I asked, flicking the ashes off my cigarette. I watched the side of his face, how a grin grew so big.

"Yeah," he whispered, looking up at the sky. The light in his eyes had come back and I was pretty glad that he was the same as he was when I met him. He looked better too. He went back to his normal skinny jean and band t-shirt attire. He joked around more. He was himself again.

"How'd that happen? I gotta know, I haven't seen you since the last day," I smiled, lightly shoving him. His grin grew shy as he leaned back on his hands, looking down at the tiling on his roof.

"Well, on our way to that concert, she asked for a kiss," his cheeks turned pink while he spoke. "I was afraid to kiss her, because I knew what would happen. I'd spill over like a freaking waterfall. Which is what I ended up doing." I nodded, recalling the many times he had told me if they ever kissed like normal human beings, he'd fall off his rocker and completely lose his mind to the point of confession.

"Looks like it worked out in the end," I said, putting out my cigarette and tossing it over the edge.

"Yeah," his voice sounded absent, and I glanced over at him. He was already looking at me with, what is that? Judgment?

"What?" I asked, pulling out another cigarette. I hadn't been able to smoke for a couple days because my mom was suspicious of my bad habit.

"Why do you smoke? It's gross and bad for you," I raised an eyebrow at him, lighting the end and taking a long puff off it.

"So is drinking and weed," I retorted, smoke flowing out of my mouth.

"Weed isn't that bad," he crossed his legs, looking back up at the sky. "plus, I don't smoke it that often. Only when it's available and I'm offered."

"It's a slow death, man," I took another puff, holding the smoke in.

"At least it's slow. Cigarettes can kill you quicker, especially since you hold it in," I chuckled, letting out the smoke.

"If I wanted to die, I'd like it quick," I snapped my fingers for demonstration. "I wouldn't want my brain to diminish slowly to the point of being 28 and forgetting my own name."

"It does that?" He asked, shocked. He looked over at me with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah. It takes about 10 years, but it slowly starts eating your brain. Cigarettes just attack the lungs immediately."

"And you're okay with that?" I looked at him for a moment before looking up at the sky, pondering his question. And you're okay with that? Am I?

"I'm not sure . . ." My voice trailed off, taking another long puff. I let the smoke leave my nostrils, still thinking about what he asked me. "I guess it's the same as when I asked you if you were okay with just being friends with benefits with her. You didn't know, all you knew was that it felt right." I saw from the corner of my eye him turning bright red. "I guess it just feels right."

"I guess that makes sense," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "it's still gross."

"She told me the same thing," I smiled, thinking back to when I had my first real conversation with her.

"She hates weed too," he said, sounding absent again. "she's more of a drinker."

"I noticed," I responded, remembering her wasted state when I first met her at that party. Man, if I hadn't had gone, he would've never found her.