And He Tasted Of Cigarettes

by Ville Hermanni Valo

Alex Davies of Elliot Minor .In this world, your drug dealer is nothing more to you than a drug dealer. And to them, you are nothing but a client - an idiot who gives them money for impure drugs, for some silly fix. Addiction is horrible.

Soon We'll Fall To Pieces.

He wouldn't like me. He simply could not like me. In this world, your drug dealer is nothing more to you than a drug dealer. And to them, you are nothing but a client - an idiot who gives them money for impure drugs, for some silly fix. These feelings that developed - along with my addiction to heroin - were bringing my life down terribly. Perhaps even more than the drug itself. I liked this drug dealer which meant I visited him more often, which meant I bought more drugs. Stupid really - I was nothing to him but I somehow hoped that I wasn't.

---

The cool, Yorkshire air nipped at my skinny arms and the tip of my nose. My ear had grown numb throughout my journey towards this place and I no longer felt the icyness of the snow from above hitting my face with great force. I was almost there, I couldn't give up now. The small alleyway came into sight and his shadow bounced off the walls. No one else was around at this time of night - which is partly why I chose to come. My money was ready, deep in my jacket pocket and I was ready to try and impress him as much as possible. But the man was simple beautiful - I was not.

I approached him and pulled the twenty pound note from my scruffy pocket. His hand reached forward and he pulled the note carefully out of my tight grip. His slim fingers wrapped around the money, as if it were some sort of precious jewel that he believed I was going to steal from him. He placed the money in his pocket and handed me the drugs.

The wind swept his dark hair across his face. "It's good to see you again. How are you, Phoebs?"

I shrugged and pushed my brown fringe out of my face. I needed a shower and from my appearance, I was sure that was noticeable. "Things are pretty rough now that winter has kicked in, you know? It used to be nice sitting out in summer and watching the sun set. Now it's horrible and rainy."

"I would say that you could use my shower but I'm just a drug dealer to you, Phoebs. I don't want you kicking down my door in the middle of the night because I've refused you heroin." He chuckled a most beautiful chuckle. I wanted to capture it and play it on repeat.

"Alex, do you honestly think I'd do that to you? I know you're always here every night."

Alex shrugged a little, his tiny frame almost invisble from the large coat that was draped over his shoulders. "I don't see why you can't use my shower. You're the only one that comes at this time, so we can leave."

Was this man being serious? Letting me near his house, showing me affection was not a very clever idea and I wanted to tell him that. But I couldn't...

The man began to walk away from the alleyway, so I followed and he never seemed to care. He slowed his pace so that I was able to catch up and walk beside him. The wind blew his scent across my face and I smiled to myself - cigarettes and the faint smell of aftershave. We reached a small block of flats which looked rather beaten up and we entered. We passed many people on the way up the stairs - people whispering, talking about me. I never cared, hot water was on it's fucking way.

Alex pushed the door to his flat open and revealed to me a rather nicely furbished room. The livingroom was amazing, as was the kitchen, the bedrooms and the toilet. This flat was certainly out of place. It should have been in a row of expensive flats in the posh part of York, not in this part of town. Alex pushed the toilet door open and turned the tap on.

"I think you'd prefer a bath, Phoebs." Alex smiled and placed a fluffy towel on the top of the radiator for me. "The radiator is on so that you'll be warm when you come out. Use whatever you want, I don't mind."

"Why would a bath be better?"

"Because, when the running water hits your track marks with force, you will be in excruciating pain. Trust me...I know."

I cocked my head to the side in confusion. "You know how it feels? I thought you didn't do heroin..."

"That's what I tell my clients. So that if I get caught, I can deny it. Most drug dealers do drugs too right? If they think I don't then they'll get confused."

"Wise move, Alex. You didn't have to do all this for me you know. As you said - I'm just a client."

Alex shook his head. "No, I had to do this...and don't ask me why. Just have a bath and I'll have coffee ready for you."

"I don't like coffee."

Alex smirked and began to walk away. "Tea it is then, Phoebs."

I stripped down naked and took a look at myself in the bathroom mirror. What had I become? I truely digusted myself. Marks upon every inch of my being, a stick thin body that an anorexic would surely be proud of and hair so thin and greasy enough that it looked as though it should belong on an old man's head. The florescent lighting in the bathroom didn't help me look any better either.

I jumped into the bath and scrubbed at my skin - hoping my impurities and imperfections would wash away with the layers of skin that I shed. I felt different , happier to be inside rather than outside and thankful that someone had offered to help me in my time of need.

The bath was refreshing and I wrapped the warm towel around my body. I walked out of the bathroom in search of Alex and I found him sitting at the dining table, sipping on a cup of steaming hot coffee.

"How was your bath?" Alex smiled. "Presumably nice as I can see the smile splattered across your little face. Sit, drink the tea. I'll go fetch you some clothes."

I did as I was told. The burning hot tea scolded my throat but I didn't mind. "Where are you getting girls clothes from? Is there something you've not been telling people, Alex?"

Alex popped his head around the door. "Don't ask questions, Phoebs. All you need to know is that it involves a dead girlfriend and a heroin overdose. Does that answer your question enough or should I go into more gruesome details?"

I shook my head sharply. "No thank you. I'm sorry, Alex...for asking those questions and about your girlfriend."

"It's alright, don't be sorry. Curiousity is found in everyone, Phoebs." Alex placed the clothes upon the table beside my cup of tea and sat back down. "I hope you like the clothes. You're a little smaller than she was but they'll fit nicely."

"I'm thankful for clean clothes, honestly, thank you! I've been wearing these for...forever, I guess."

Alex sipped on his coffee politely before brushing his hair out of his blue eyes. "You don't have to thank me."

"I think you'll find I do. No one has ever been this nice to me."

"Don't be silly! I'm sure that your family would take you back if your promised to clean yourself up. I know you don't need that heroin anyway..."

I bit down on my lower lip. The taste of blood rushed into my mouth. "How do you know?"

"Well," Alex began. "A person - client - who was utterly gagging for heroin, really desperate for it would practically have pulled the bag out of my hands and got their hit right in front of me. But you're never like that. A person who wanted heroin badly, but felt they could wait until they ran home would have had their shit by now. But you're not like that. So, I'm presuming that you take heroin for a little hit and want to be clean but feel the need to come visit me every night just because you like some attention."

"Do you read people, Alex or have you been following me around?"

"I'd say I'm good at reading people," Alex smirked and leaned forward in his chair. "There's nothing wrong with wanting a little bit of attention, Phoebs. Although, you don't have to buy heroin from me - or any drug for that matter. I like you...client or not."

"So, why'd you let me buy heroin all the time?"

"I didn't think you'd be so clueless! You've seen me with other people...clients, I mean. I never call them by their names - I don't even know their names! I don't ask them how they are doing and I certainly do not ask them to come to freshen up in my flat."

"I don't think clueless is the right word for me right now, Alex. I thought with your extensive vocabulary that you would have come up with a better word to sum me up... I'm rather shocked," I smirked, my sarcastic tone made the corner of his mouth turn upwards.

"You're right... I think the word I was looking for was 'stupid'."

I sipped on my tea whilst furrowing my eyebrows. "I could take that seriously and get mad at you for calling me 'stupid', Alex."

"Yes," Alex smirked. "But you're not going to get mad and shout at me, are you?"

I shook my head and swirled the last of tea around in the bottom of the cup. "You know me too well...I'm unsure as to how though."

"Don't ask questions, Phoebs. What have a told you?"

"You just asked me a question. That's rude, Alex."

----

"Phoebe! Get out of our house," my father shouted towards me. I cowered back in fear and turned to head for the front door but his firm grip near broke my wrist. I tried to break free but he held my face inbetween his hands and forced me to stare deeply into his hazel eyes. "You're never welcome here. Don't bother coming back."

My bottom lip quivered and I felt my knees struggle to hold my weight up, "Dad...I'm sorry."

My father shook his head repeatedly and pushed me back, I stumbled and my back hit against the wall behind me. My father then made no attempt to help me back up, instead he laughed down at me. I heaved my body up from the cool, linoleum floor and reached out for the golden door handle infront of my eyes. It was the prize, a prize which would take me away from here, away from my fathers judgement.

I was afraid of my father in a way, I guess I was scared that I couldn't make him proud. But leaving this house, and never darkening his doorway again, would make him proud. As long as he had my little sister to protect everything was just fine. Leaving wasn't so easy though, reaching out for the doorhandle was harder than I had ever imagined. I was here now and I didn't want to leave - no matter how unwanted I was.

My mother rushed down the stairs and shot daggers at me. She wrapped her arm around my fathers waist and looked me up and down, as if she was looking at shit on the floor. The look plastered across their faces was a look of utter disgust.

"I didn't know you were here," my mother frowned. I knew she was taking my fathers side but something in her blue eyes told me that she wanted to hug me, comfort me. "I thought we told you never to come back, Phoebs."

I nodded and hit my back against the front door, "You did but...I wanted to see you, I miss you."

"Cut it with the bullshit!" my father screamed. He pushed my mother back, causing her to land on the floor with a thud. My father ran towards me like a raging bull and his hands wrapped around my throat. My lungs craved for air as his grip grew tighter and tighter around my constricted windpipe. My cheeks burned red and tears streamed from my eyes. I couldn't fight him off - even if I tried. "You're killing us."

"M..um!" I gasped. But she made no effort to save me, none whatsoever.

I took in one last sharp breath and I fell to the floor...

I shot up and looked around at the darkened room. There was a light coming from a room right next to mine. I sighed and took a look at the digital clock on the bedside table, 4:00am. I shuffled across the floor and entered the room. The light from above blinded me momentarily and I found Alex sitting watching the television. His head turned and he smirked once he caught sight of me.

"You're up a little early, aren't you Phoebs?" Alex asked whilst shuffling around in his fancy leather chair.

I ran my fingertips over my neck and nodded a little, "Just a little dream."

Alex's baby blues bulged out of the socket once he caught sight of my neck. He jumped up from his chair and ran to my side. His icy touch grazed the top of my skin softly, his eyes focused in on my neck. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, slightly confused.

"You have bruises across your neck...like you've been strangled."

I pushed Alex to the side gently and went in search of the nearest mirror. I still didn't know my way around Alex's extremely impressive flat but I finally found a mirror out in the hallway. I edged closer and closer to get a good look at the marks that dominated my neck. I frowned a little when the dream, or nightmare, came back to me. Alex stood behind me, looking at my reflection.

"Who did this to you?" Alex's hot breath cascaded over the back of my neck.

I bowed my head, "It was just a dream. I have a habit of getting hurt in them and I sometimes hurt myself."

"Who hurt you?"

I chewed upon the bleeding skin on my lower lip as if hoping it would calm me down, "My father."

Alex wrapped his arms around my frame and pulled me against his chest. I assumed he had a shower because he smelled of the body wash that I had used previously. His brown hair was no longer greasy and he wore brand new clothes, fancy clothes. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

I nodded, "Actually, make it coffee and do you have cigarettes? I could really have one right now."

"What kind do you smoke?"

I smiled and slowly and unsurely wrapped my arms around his torso, "Lambert & Butler or Marlboros."

"Just in luck, Phoebs," Alex chucked a little. "I have Lambert & Butler."

"Silver packet?"

"Yes."

"How many are in them?" I asked curiously.

"Eighteen."

"I think we'll need more if we're going to be staying awake for the duration of the day."

"Think you can survive on eighteen until the shop opens up the morning?"

I nodded and closed my eyes against his chest, "What time does it open?"

"Six in the morning."

"That'll be fine."

---

Alex popped his head around the door and smiled softly. I had began to notice that he didn't like showing his teeth when he smiled. His slender fingers brushed his dark hair out of his over-sized blue orbs. I shifted around on the comfortable leather couch in his living room whilst trying not to spill my tea or drop cigarette ash onto Alex's dead ex-girlfriend's clothes. What a fucking mouthful that was.

"Do you know what time it is?" Alex smirked and pulled money out of his jacket pocket.

I cocked my head to the side, "Now, Alex, you never told me that you go out in the daytime and sell drugs. You must be very sly…very sly indeed."

Alex huffed before pulling his large jacket closer to his tiny body. He was so thin that I could see his hipbones poking through his thick jacket, as if they wanted to be free or something. "It's half past six, the shop opened half an hour ago. I'll go get more cigarettes, tea bags and coffee. You've raided my supplies, Phoebs."

"I'm terribly sorry," I sighed with a sarcastic tone throughout my voice. "But you had cigarettes and I hadn't had any in a while. You never took them from me, did you?"

Alex watched me carefully as I blew the toxins out of my lungs and through my nostrils. I then flicked the unlit ash onto the ashtray that was situated upon the small, mahogany coffee table beside me. I looked over to Alex who was now staring at something. I tried to figure out what it was – because I am nosey – but I was still confused.

"Alex!" I shouted. He jumped from the shock and held onto the door frame for support. Alex shook his head and brushed his clean hair out of his vision once again. I loved it when he did that…there was something so utterly perfect about it, about him. "What were you staring at, dreamer?"

Alex shook his head again, "Nothing, I was just thinking."

"That's a big thing for you, isn't it?" I joked before stubbing my filter onto the glass on the bottom of the ashtray with force. I listened to it carefully as the cigarette gave out one last crackle. I loved the sound cigarettes made when they crackled in the wind at night. They were just so relaxing.

A small smile played upon Alex' rosy, full lips before he put his money back into his large pocket. "Was the sarcasm asked for?"

I shook my head.

"Well then it was not needed," Alex winked at me. He had a cheeky look upon his face but when he closed his right eye for that millisecond, I did not like it. I didn't like not seeing his beautiful, blue eyes looking down at me. If I could, I would have super glued them open…and I mean that in the nicest way possible.

"Marlboro Lights, please," I sighed heavily and reached forward to grab another cigarette out of the packet at my feet. Alex lunged forward from where he stood and took a hold on my tiny wrist. I frowned and tried to pull a smoke out of the packet but Alex pouted and put on his best puppy-dog eyes.

"Can't I have the last one since you've already smoked the last seventeen?" Alex pouted. I wanted to lean forward and kiss his protruding lip…but that would be unacceptable. I sighed and leaned back and felt myself melt into his couch.

"Only because you make good tea," I huffed.

Alex popped the cancer stick in his mouth and took the purple lighter from the coffee table. My eyes were directed up to him where I watched as he lit his smoke and blew the contents out of the space between his pursed lips. I shuffled around on the couch once again and tried not to look up at perfection itself.

"Thank you," Alex's words were muffled by the cigarette. "I'll be back in ten minutes. Any longer and you can send out a search party. Either that or the police have caught me."

"You'll be back, you sly little bastard," I grinned and grabbed the television remote.

Alex turned his back upon me and I listened intently to the sound of his footsteps getting further and further until they completely vanished. I instantly felt down once I knew that Alex was gone. I sat upright on the couch and my eyes scanned the room in search of something. My body was craving something – it was not drugs, it was Alex's return. I ran my hands up the length of my arms and cringed at the feeling of the scars that were dotted all along my veins. Alex was able to keep my mind off things when he was here. Perhaps that was because I was far too busy staring at the man itself; the man I so very badly wanted to love me but I knew he didn't.

I stood up and wandered into the kitchen and began searching in every cupboard. I needed something – just something – to occupy me whilst Alex was away. I felt my mind wander to my father and my mother. I raised my right hand to brush against the bruises that had previously caused Alex to show me affection. Maybe if I hurt myself again, Alex would come running to me and scoop me up in his arms.

I pulled a knife from the cutlery drawer and pressed it against the skin upon my wrist. I was never one to self harm (joke not intended) but when needs must. I ran the smooth blade across the top of my pale skin and watched as white turned to red. A small river of crimson liquid poured across the top of my skin. My eyes watched as the blood ran down my arm and gathered at my elbow before dropping onto my lap. It stained the jeans that Alex had given me. Guilt washed over me like water, it was more like a tsunami of guilt.

I threw the knife onto the kitchen floor; droplets of blood splattered across the shiny white floor. I stood up and looked around for a hand towel but there was none. I ran around like a headless chicken until I was stopped dead in my tracks by a hand being placed upon my shoulder. I turned on my heels to find Alex standing with a packet of cigarettes in his grasp.

"I, uh, got you those cigarettes," Alex smiled softly. He placed his hand upon the small of my back and directed me back into the living room. Alex made sure I was sat down in the middle of the couch before he wandered off into the kitchen. Moments later he returned with the knife that had caused the flow of crimson, a wet cloth and bandages.

"What did you do, Phoebs?" Alex sighed heavily and dabbed the wet cloth across the top of my wrist. The blood flow seemed to stop for a second before restarting. He held the knife up in his free hand. "Why did you do that to yourself?"

I shrugged, "Something to do."

Anger burned in his baby blues, "You don't fucking hurt yourself if you're feeling down! If there is something wrong, you come to me!"

"What?" I asked, speechless.

"You heard me, Phoebe!" Alex shouted. Ouch, he used my full name. That was never a good sign. "If you want to talk about something, you come to me and we'll talk it out. You don't just go and slice your fucking arm open with one of my knives."

Alex put emphasis on the 'my'.

"I'm, I'm sorry," I stuttered. I tried not to show defeat by crying in front of Alex but the tears didn't seem to disappear when I sniffed. I wiped away the small droplets that graced my cheeks with the back of my hand. Alex frowned and held onto my wrist with both of his hands. He applied pressure on the cloth and leaned closer to me.

"I didn't make you cry, did I?" Alex whispered softly. His hot breath hit my nose and the smell of his breath wrapped around my heart.

I shook my head sharply, "No, not at all!"

"Then what made you cry?"

I bowed my head and let my hair fall over my face. I thought that if I couldn't see Alex, then he surely couldn't see me. "You left."

Alex smiled and pressed his soft lips to the top of my head, "And you thought that I wasn't going to come back or what?"

"I missed your company. After not getting the tiniest bit of attention for years and years then you sort of crave the stuff, you know?" I looked up and noticed he was smiling softly, sympathetically in a way. "You don't know. You're surrounded by attention."

Alex roamed around in his pockets and placed the cigarettes onto my lap. I lifted them up with my free hand and opened the packet with my teeth. What a struggle that was. I placed my nose near the pack of squashed together, unlit smokes and inhaled. The scent from them was simply divine; not as divine as the scent that came from Alex.

"Would you like me to light a cigarette for you, Phoebs?" Alex cocked his head to the side and watched as I inhaled the smell coming from the tiny packet.

I nodded.

Alex reached forward and pulled a cigarette out and placed it carefully between my lips. His piano fingers graced the skin upon my lower lip and all he could do was smile down at me. He sparked up the lighter and I inhaled deeply before blowing the first drag's contents out of my nostrils.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Alex nodded as if to say 'my pleasure'. His blue orbs that I loved so very much looked back down at my wrist. He pulled the cloth away and placed it onto the coffee table. "The bleed has stopped…finally."

Strands of his dark hair fell across his face. This time I let temptation take over and my hand brushed away his hair. Alex looked up at me with a smile across his perfect, pale face.

I bowed my head and pulled the cigarette from between my lips, "Just my way of saying thank you, I guess."

"Tea or coffee?"

I watched as Alex stood up. He took the knife and cloth away with him into the kitchen. He reappeared at the door frame seconds later. During those seconds I was feeling withdrawal symptoms. The man was so fucking addictive; he was more addictive than heroin.

"I'll have coffee, thanks," I muttered.

Alex have a swift nod and turned on his heels.

I had fallen asleep and I was beginning to hate myself for falling asleep all the bloody time. I awoke to the sound of someone screaming. At first I thought it was the television but under further inspection, I realised it was someone shouting at Alex. Someone was shouting at my Alex. I threw the bed covers off my legs and tip toed towards the door. I pressed my ear against it and listened carefully to the other man who was in the room with perfection.

"Listen, mate, I need a place to fucking stay and everyone has bailed out on me. Let me fucking stay!" the man yelled. His voice was deeper than Alex's, huskier too.

Alex let out a large sigh and I could just tell that he had brushed his hair away from his eyes, "Alistair, fuck sake mate! I sell you drugs, end of. I'm not having one of my clients here and bothering me. All you want is more fucking heroin…and you're not getting it!"

"Fuck the heroin, Alexander! I need a place to stay; I'm sleeping on the streets here."

I heard a thud on the other side of the door and the ground beneath my bare feet vibrated. I pushed open the door and watched as the other man, Alistair if I remember correctly, pushed Alex onto the couch with great force. Alex then stood up quickly and pushed Alistair back which sent him flying onto the coffee table. I would have been proud of Alex if it weren't for the fact that my cigarettes were lying upon the table. I stood and watched in horror as Alistair's back crushed my almost full packet of precious Marlboro Lights.

I ran to Alistair's side and pushed him to the side in anger. I picked up my cigarettes and whimpered. "Get the fuck out now. I swear to God, if you don't get out of my face in the next ten seconds I'm coming at you with a knife!"

Alistair looked at me with confusion and fear plastered across his face. He hurriedly jumped up from the ground and sprinted towards Alex's front door. I remained seated on the floor with shards of glass surrounding my legs. I looked down and threw the packet on the floor in defeat. Fucking clients, fucking heroin, fucking Alistair.

Alex sat down upon the floor beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I silently wished that he would move his arm down further and cradle my waist. Alex kissed the top of my head again which gave me the chance to inhale his scent further. I smiled to myself and looked up at Alex who was smiling.

"I never knew you could be so scary," Alex admitted. "I'll have to make sure that you scare away all my clients who find out where I live."

"The prick literally squashed eighteen cigarettes; eighteen Marlboro Lights, none the fucking less!"

"He's a prick…" Alex trailed off and helped me up and off the floor.

"He owes me a packet of cigarettes. And if he comes here again I will go at him with a knife," I sighed. I looked up at Alex who was looking down at my face intently. I reached up and let my fingertips graze the top of Alex's pale and icy cheek. I trembled as our skin brushed up against one another. I placed my entire hand upon the side of Alex's face and closed my eyes tightly. This was better than heroin, this was better than any drug in the world. Alex raised his hand slowly, and placed his hand on top of mine. I took a good look at his fingers. They were amazing and it was even better that his piano fingers were stroking the skin upon my hand.

I felt a pain shooting down my arm. I grimaced and Alex slowly moved his hand onto my wrist.

"Your wrist is sore," Alex whispered. It sounded as though he was lost for words.

I nodded, "It hurts."

Alex raised my wrist up to his lips and kissed the top of the bandages that shielded my skin from open air. He left a trail of soft yet passionate kisses all the way up to my elbow until he stopped.

"Any better?" Alex said.

I tried to figure out what expression his face held but I had no clue. He never showed sympathy towards my pain or passion towards the kisses he felt the need to plant across my pale arm, and certainly not happiness from the fact I'd scared away a client of his. Alex's face held no emotion. But his eyes told a different story. I could have looked into them for hours and hours. The florescent lighting in the room made his eyes twinkle.

I gulped down the saliva that had gathered underneath my tongue, "Much better…thanks."

Alex's fingers reached out and pushed my fringe away from my face. He inspected every inch of my face, carefully, and I tried to understand what he was thinking. But I knew Alex let no one in so there no point trying. His hand moved towards my neck and his index finger traced small circles upon my skin. This was perfect.

"I'm taking you out tonight," Alex smiled, never taking his eyes away from the invisible circles he drew upon my neck.

I cocked my head to the side and closed my eyes, "Why are you taking me out? I'm just a client."

Alex immediately removed his hand from my neck and let it drop by his side, "I wish you'd stop saying that, Phoebs. You've been here for the past two days now. You should know that you're far more than a client."

"Ah…"

"We're going to a Chinese restaurant downtown. The place is a little dodgy but I guess people say that about us. It's nothing fancy but I have some clothes, if you want to dress more formal I mean," Alex let a sigh escape from between his parted lips. Temptation set in again. My squinted my eyes and marvelled at every, tiny freckle upon his nose, every mark, every scar. They left me breathless.

I shook thoughts of Alex out of my head and nodded, "New clothes would be lovely. Thank you."

Alex leaned down and picked up the cigarettes that lay at our feet. He carefully pulled a dishevelled smoke from the packet and placed it between his lips. Alex pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the smoke. I listened as the orange flame at the end crackled. "They're perfectly fine to me, Phoebs."

I nodded and took a cigarette, "Give us a light, Alex."

He placed the lighter in my hand and let his fingers linger upon my skin for a few seconds longer. Tiny, electrical current buzzed over the surface of my skin where he had just touched, "There you go."

I sparked up the lighter, inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. I felt calmer all of a sudden, "Do you want me to make some coffee?"

"That'd be brilliant. Thank you. Are you having coffee?"

I shook my head and a grin spread across my face, "Last time you fed me coffee I was buzzing for five hours. That's not such a good thing when you're trying to get to sleep."

Alex smirked and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, "I never fed you the coffee. I offered and you simply accepted."

"Wise move, Davies."

"Are we on a last name basis now, Bennett?"

I nodded, "Where'd you keep the coffee?"

I turned on my heels and headed into the kitchen. Alex followed behind me but stopped once he reached the door frame. He leaned against it and folded his arms, watching my every move. I felt paranoid, and when I felt paranoid I tended to mess things up more than usual.

"Furthest away cupboard on the right," Alex chimed in.

All I could think about was not dropping that fucking glass coffee jar.