Roses and cigarettes
Any minute now she'd be walking into her room; Aleister grinned at the thought as he jumped the last foot or two to the ground from her drainpipe. He reached into his pocket, and leaned back against the wall, rolling a cigarette as he waited. Sure enough, just as he was shielding the fag from the wind and lighting it, he heard the window above him open. He pushed away from the wall, turned and stared upwards,
'You bastard!' Neidel yelled down, 'how did you get into my room?' Aleister gave an extravagant bow,
'My dear Juliet, no obstacle can stand in the path of a lover,' he shouted back, noticing the rose he'd left on her bed in her hand,
'Fucking twat, do that again and I'll bloody wrench this up your arse,' she waved the rose threateningly then slammed the window shut,
'That didn't go to well huh?' Terry sidled up from the street, a fag in hand,
'Give me a week, and she'll be mine' Aleister replied, then looked at his friend, noting the red eyes and overall grubbiness, 'Christ, look at you. Who vomited you up this morning?' Terry chuckled,
'Sara, she vomited me out of the house before her parent' woke up,'
'One expulsion in return for another huh?'
'You crude bastard,' Terry pushed a mop of hair from in front of his eyes, eyeing Aleister's fag, 'what you smoking?'
'A strange concoction of donkey liver, birds nest and Afghanistan hound,'
'Really?'
'Yeah, Dave sold it to me, apparently it makes you feel like your swimming in strawberry jelly,'
'Cool! Give me some,' Aleister rolled his eyes,
'Twat.'