𝕂𝕦𝕫𝕦𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕕𝕒 𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 💴📞🔧🧰

Candy🍭🚬

I know I've been gone for a while and I'm really sorry😭-

I've just been running low on ideas, working on other books and improving on my writing skills, but I'll try to keep posting on this story!!

This is a little short I'm sorry-

You read from kazuichi's POV

You're tired. Obviously.

But someone how familiar bitter smell of Fuyuhiko's cigarette manages to get you up early.

Even though it's cold outside and it makes you shudder violently, you manage to find some warmth as you wrap your somewhat muscles arms around the concentrated boy.

You can feel his nerves reacting sharply and the sudden bolt in his body, but after making sure it's you he goes back to thinking and smoking.

"Why are you up so early?" You watch, entranced, as Fuyuhiko removes the burnt cigarette from his soft looking lips as he talks to you.

You shrug and leave it at that, because you can't tell him that the smell of his cigarette woke him up.

Sighing heavily, you find yourself resting your chin on his shoulder, and blankly staring at the sky since you decided that you had nothing better to do than watch Fuyuhiko repeat the process of his lips colliding with the cigar, removing it, and the toxic puff of smoke that seeped through those lips.

It disappoints you to say the least. It disappoints you so much that somehow, under all that drowsiness and hazing, you remove the cigarette from his lips and carefully watch and take note of his slight shocked expression.

Your eyes then avert to the halfway burnt cigarette in between your fingertips before letting it fall to the floor and smashing it with your slipper, not caring if the fluffy fabric is now smudged.

You wait patiently for his response. An angered expression was the most expected. But fortunately, Fuyuhiko just stood their. Not stiff in shock, but as if nothing had happened. It almost scared you a bit.

"Not cool," you hear him mumble and sigh. No signs of aggravation in his voice, just plain exhaustion.

"If you're going to smoke, smoke something," there's hesitance clear as you trailed off. "Sweet." You finally think.

Your grasp around his waist subconsciously tightens and you attract more of his warmth. Even in his tough times, you'd be lying if you said Fuyuhiko didn't comfort you in someway. Whether it was railing him or just plainly holding him tight like now. He's comforting. Even his bitter puffs of smoke from his cigar. He's comforting.

That's what you like most about Fuyuhiko.

I'm trying different writing perspectives since I only write in third person.

I will take criticism but please be nice if you do.

Again I'm sorry for not being that active on this book I've just run out of a lot of ideas