Nine O'clock Marlboro

Nine O'clock Marlboro

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima atualização qua, jun 19, 2013
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."
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"Are you ever afraid of being alone?" I asked after a while. A question that had randomly popped into my mind. I wasn't expecting him to answer me, but he did. Jonah turned his face, but I didn't look back at him, I kept staring up at the skies. He turned back to the sky and took a breather before answering. "We're always going to be alone, Rose. Always. We'll be haunted by the darkness that is our own shadow, but in every shadow there's a light." He answered, as if the simplest thing in the world. I only stared at him with a dropped jaw. That was out of this world. Especially coming from Jonah. "When does it get better?" I mumbled. "It doesn't. But to go through it with someone makes it a whole lot easier." He turned back to face me. We stared at each other for a while. He'd always occasionally look down at my lips, and I'd do the same to him. I broke it off and looked back up at the sky. -=- New York City. The place of opportunities. But what shall Rose do when there's so many of them? Jonah, the seducer with a British accent, or Cameron, equally British but sweet. Her clock is ticking. She has one year to make up her mind until the exchange program takes back all their Brits and their New Yorkers return. And so the end-of-the-year party is the final strike. Either Rose chooses...or she doesn't. *WARNING* I began this book (my first book ever) when I was like 11 or 12 years old so the first chapters (idk how many) suck, not gonna lie. I had scrapped so many ideas (that I only really wrote a few chapters of) that when I was older enough to realize the story I had going so far sucked, I didn't want to scrap again, so I finished for that sake in a span of 3 years (and ended in 2014). All in all, not my greatest work, but read on if you wish. Text Copyright © droppedintoxic™ 2014

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