Disclaimer: disclaim
Author notes: all my other stuff was remotely serious so I decided to lighten up my fiction repertoire.
I hate it. I absolutely hate it. You get nice and comfortable, then it's gone. I hate that feeling the emptiness, that radiates afterwards. The afterglow is usually short lived. Nothing after that, nothing until you again try to get that sort of fix.
Shuichi doesn't understand it and he complains about it. I don't think he realizes it is my one true love. It's always been there for me, long before he was. I glare at nothing in particular, and I pull it toward me. Bitter of the fact, that the feeling will soon be gone.
I stab out my cigarette and long for another.