Nine O'clock Marlboro

I placed the cigarette between my lips and searched for my lighter. Jonah came up behind me. "But why are you here?" he asked softly, as if he thought we'd get caught. I chuckled. "They think I want to kill myself," I murmured through the cigarette, now searching the side. Sure enough, my trusty white lighter was hidden deep in the pocket. Jonah had moved beside me, leaning against the white, brick side. I looked up at him, having to guard my eyes from the sun. He looked pained; he looked as if he was about to burst. I looked back down at my lighter and ran my thumb against the smooth, cool side. Be bent down next to me, taking my bogey in his long and pale fingers. Looking me straight in the eye, he whispered, "Well? Do you?" I looked down and bit the inside of my lip. I took my cigarette back and put it back in my mouth. Grabbing the lighter, I lit my nine o'clock Marlboro. "Yeah, I suppose I do."