messy sketchbooks

cigarettes and lunchdates

his hiss was ingrained into your mind, a show of weakness? pain? embarrassment? whatever it was you somehow felt more connected as your hand hovered over his cheek, his eyes were shut and reflecting your touch.

"what-what happened?"

you couldn't help but repeat your question, voice trembling and fingers buckling as well. your heart broke with his, who could have hurt him? why could someone? what was he hiding from you?

"its nothing"

he was acting detached. different. he wasn't his usual emotionally cold self. his aura that was invading your personal space felt numb. the quick brush off of your cry of horror rung pain through your eardrums. you weren't going to let him suffer, keep his private life hidden from you. you wanted to know everything, who he was, what he did and especially who hurt him.

"it's not nothing ky, it's a fucking black eye"

"i told you its nothing, now can we get started"

he pushed your hand that was still connected to his face away, his touch feeling aggravated by your own agitation. he reached above you to grasp his fingers around the metal coat hanger that was holding his newly finished suit for him. his eyes examined it, never once showing a sign of acceptance or rejection. he went into the nearest fitting room, leaving you in a state of shock. you couldn't sit down, you kept pacing up and down, heels making confused noises on the hardwood floor.

"you should really save your walking for after the meeting"

you were perplexed by the growl of tone that permeated through the fabric curtain that was directed solely at you. before you could respond, he drew back the curtain and walked towards you, buttoning up the freshly ironed suit jacket. it fit him perfectly, no alterations were needed. it clung to his broad back like a glove, his arms snaking well into the sleeves. the shirt peeking through the window of the jacket, allowing you to see the familiar sight of his breathe move up and down. the small handkerchief in his right pocket, black satin. matched the bow tie that was superbly tied. he obviously had experience with them. the trousers loosely fitting around his legs, hiding those thighs that held so much power over you, and that one other body part that made you eager to discover once more.

you were too busy drinking in his appearance, trying to lull the sudden ache in your core when his finger connected with the end of your chin making you look directly into those hazel irises.

"i'm taking you out to lunch angel"

"r-really?"

you let out a small giggle of excitement and irony. had your confession worked? he was finally taking you out? for lunch? the mundane task of grabbing a sandwich and coffee during your hour lunch break with him sounded hilarious to you. it was so normal. there was no fancy attire, just you in your black ripped jeans, laced cami and cardigan. where would he even take you? surely his idea of lunch wasn't the same as your typical street vender deli sandwich. you were thinking of how he would probably enjoy some extravagant three course continental brunch option, that had separate menus for both lunch and dinner.

his thumb caressed your bottom lip, you reacted with a slight sigh and pout of your mouth. you'd missed his touch, but what was new? you missed him as soon as he walked out of any room you were in. the invisible comfort and confidence he aided you with, depleted time after time. sure calling him soothed your ears with his husk voice, but it wasn't the same as hearing it whisper something lustful in your ear.

"yes, you worked hard getting the suit perfect so, think of it as a gift for your hard work"

his tone seemed professional, not like the man who brought you takeout in a three piece and fucked you a few weeks ago. but you weren't going to let your paranoia ruin your day, sure he might seem a bit closed off but at least he was here, and you were able to spend time with him. his thumb was resting over your lip for a little while longer while you both stared into each other's eyes, the tension was relentless. suddenly his lips fell onto yours, an aggression behind the intent, he didn't think twice before eating you up. his tongue pressing against your teeth waiting for permission until you allowed it. both of your wetness' were intertwining, you could taste and smell the reminiscence of smoke on his lips. you could tell being a smoker yourself. anybody could have. however, you never profiled him for one? you pulled away and so did he.