UNORTHODOX | KAI PARKER

XI .LIMITLESS.

Chapter 11

warning for brief discussion of self harm towards the end <3

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Clouds of grey smoke circle throughout the living room. My eyes follow the whirling of each spiral of smoke, wide and enraptured by the artificial climate they resemble, from my laying position on the floor. Like an atmosphere blackened by an oncoming storm of leaden clouds. Those types of clouds have a name, long-winded and gratuitous, but my brain can't recall.

God, I fucking miss scary storm clouds.

No matter where we went, the clouds of the prison world were light. Fluffy. Pretty, white cotton balls adorning the blue of the sky. There were more in some places, less in others— but no matter what, they were always soft and gentle. It made me sad. Forlorn, almost.

I had always adored storms growing up, as opposed to Elena and Jeremy. There was something peaceful about the dark, cumulonimbus — that's the name! — clouds looming overhead. The harsh pellet of the rain, or the hail against the windows, almost sonically. In my whirlwind of a life, the illuminating strike of lightning always followed by the bellow of thunder was a reassuring constant.

It was relaxing to me, and fuck, I miss it. Despite it being barely three weeks.

I place the joint back between my lips and take a pull, the smoke circulating throughout my body and making my brain fuzzy. Floaty. Happy. Exactly what I fucking needed after almost bashing my brains out on the dashboard. I exhale the smoke out, creating more grey clouds, and I smile. Eyes not daring to leave the substituting storm.

"Do you miss clouds?" I ask the man who's denim-clad legs are draped across my lap, one of my hands resting on his knee casually. I don't think about the gesture. Hell, I barely notice it.

Kai, who was previously humming along to the Pixies playing from the stereo as he pours out two more shots, discards the bottle of vodka aside to meet the plethora of empty bottles piling up. Oops. The shot appears above my face, and I hoist myself up onto my forearms and take it, eyes flicking to the siphoner. He throws back the liquid, grimacing slightly, before answering.

"Literally saw clouds a few hours ago, you blind?" he slurs slightly, the alcohol having more of an effect on him than me, even though he definitely should have a higher tolerance by now. His bloodshot eyes are squinted as his brows knit together in blatant confusion at my question. A drunken giggle leaves my lips as I slap his leg, almost burning the denim with the joint held between my fingers.  "No, stupid dumb idiot. I mean like, cloud clouds."

I roll my eyes at his incompetence before downing the shot, the liquid burning my throat. This seems to baffle the inebriated boy even more, slouching back against the base of the couch and lips pouting in confusion. "Cloud clouds?" I nod my head, as if this is enough clarification for him, and take another pull from my... third joint? Fourth? Fifth?

He blinks back at me like a frog. A cackle of laughter bursts from my throat, along with the inhaled smoke which triggers a coughing fit. He laughs, high-pitched and giggly and I retaliate with another slap to his shin. "Like... like the big scary ones that like... rain 'n stuff," I elaborate, the words tumbling from my mouth ungracefully.

He tilts his head as he computes my words. "Y'mean storm clouds?" My face lights up, nodding vigorously. "Yes! Those! You little genius!" I lean over into the siphoner's space, tapping him on the nose with my index finger as an excited 'boop!' leaves my lips. His nose scrunches at the contact, eyes narrowing and brows furrowing as he exhales a petulant huff. I snort out a laugh, flopping back down onto my back and spreading my arms out.