No Smoking Zone

Summary: I can't figure this guy out. I'm not sure I want to. The mystery is a fog around him like the cigarette smoke. It enshrouds him and it burns my chest when I breathe it in, breathe him in. Everything about him is an essence of smoke. That voice. Those eyes. It burns to be around him but in a good way. Eating my insides and filling me up.

*Start Story*

"Evenin' Cat. How's the night treatin' you?"

I knew he was approaching before I heard his voice. The smell of cigarettes permeated the chill night air, wisps of smoke reaching their fingers into the night sky as if they could join the sparse overcast in their smoky grey glory. The scent wafts off of him even when he isn't smoking. Or at least I would think so but I've never seen him not smoking and since he's started coming around my nose has become a chimney with a covered top. Lately even when he's not around I can still smell the cigarette smoke in my nose.

I glare lightly at him for the nick name as he comes to stand next to me under the yellowed lamp light.

"I told you stop calling me that. And for the hundredth time, this is a no smoking zone, you know."

The man passes a sly grin on me, the kind that curls on his face with no effort, lazy and relaxing. "Why? I think it suites you. You're a pretty cool cat."

"I'm more of a dog person." I grumble and run a hand through my floppy brown mop of hair. He chuckles and the sound makes my chest burn pleasantly. He takes another drag and a cloud of burnt air pools in front of his face. He stands so close that we share the same little bubble of air and I in adversely breath in the smoke. It burns my throat, makes tears gather in the corner of my eyes and my chest constricts.

I look at him and wonder; why is he here? Why does he keep coming back? I can't figure it out. But maybe I don't want to. The mystery envelopes him like the cigarette smoke. It's a part of him. And it would be like peeling away his skin to remove either.

"How did your date go?" He asks after a beat of silence.

I take in another burning breath and scuff the tip of my sneaker into the dirt. "Terrible. He was a jerk who only wanted one thing from me. Really handsy. I sort of punched him in the nose."

Another throaty chuckle curled its pleasantly scorching fingers around my stomach and squeezed. "I'm not surprised. What number does this make? Three in the last month. I don't know, Cat. You gotta give yourself a little more credit than that."

My head throbs a little. I can't figure out what this is. It bugs me. I kind of like it and I kind of hate it.

"Maybe I'm just a magnet for the jerks. I dunno." I tug at my suddenly stifling jacket collar. A self-deprecating smile tugs at my lips.

He looks over at me with that cool gaze of his, cloudy and dark and enshrouding my very being in cold hot steam. His face is more serious. Burning gaze. "Don't say that, Cat. Guys who can't see past the body are rotten eggs before they stumble into your path. They would act the same to any other poor soul kind enough to try and see the good in them."

I could feel my cheeks burn for a new reason. A wind sweeps by us blowing the smoke away from us and briefly the cold air filters into my nose and mixes with the stinging tang.

My heart thuds against my chest. "Kind, ha. More like naïve. Guess I'm just not good at this stuff. Finding love or..whatever."

"You don't find love, Cat. It finds you." He smiles against and melts my brain.

"I have a name, you know."

"Sure you do. Doesn't mean you're not a cool cat."

I laugh and it feels good to. Especially since it's been so long but when he's around I just feel intoxicated. "You and you're jazz talk, Junichi-san. One day I'm going to have to go and hear you play since you insist on the quaint charming aura of yours."

"I'm charming?" He says as if surprised but something tells me he isn't surprised at all which makes me feel bashful for having said it.

"Yeah…"

Silence falls between us softly like a feather. This is the part that's familiar. The quiet company. The feeling of not being alone. Time rocks gently on a wave as we stand under a streetlight in a park in the middle of the night.

He finally drops the butt of his cigarette at his feet and grinds it into the cement with his boot, "I'll play for you."

"Hmm?" I question, having been a little dazed by the low throb in my head and the burning in my chest left there by the smoke.

When he looks at me I hate the flutter it causes. "Jazz, Cat. I'll play some for you sometime."

"Oh." I say dumbly which only draws another of those consuming lazy smiles. "I uh, look forward to it then." I manage to stammer out when he just keeps looking at me. He inches close to me (as we're already relatively close) and my heart beats like a five year old on a drum set. "You um, have your own band don't you? That's awesome. I've never played an instrument before. I mean I learned a little bit of the Sax but only the basics. One time in junior high-"

He had approached me slowly. I could have stopped him but I just kept rambling like an idiot. His lips are warm. I can taste the smoke on his tongue and it burns in my chest, in my eyes, in my head. I return it tentatively in case this is a trick but his mouth seems so sure of what it's doing. He pulls away and I feel lightheaded.

Instead of talking he pulls out another cigarette and lights it, sticking it between his lips.

Instead of responding properly I tell him softly, "This is a no smoking zone, you know." And he chuckles once more. I smile and pull the cigarette from his lips, taking a long drag.