See a war I wanna fight it
See a match I wanna strike it
Every fire I've ignited
Faded to grey

"Y'know that's not good for you," Emmet could practically hear the smirk in her voice and he didn't have to turn around to know that he'd see it playing across her red lips. He dropped the lighter into his shirt pocket.

"I didn't even light it yet," he sighed as he slipped the cigarette back into the box and put the box back in his back pocket.

"Who even started you on that disgusting habit?" Her blue eyes darkened with concern, or anger, Emmet couldn't decide which. She cared so much no matter how much she denied it, and all he did was use her. He knew it was wrong, but for some reason he couldn't stop. Sometimes he didn't know if he even wanted to stop. It was the only thing he had control over, but she deserved so much more.

"Hey, do you wanna maybe go grab something to eat or catch a movie or something tonight? Or some other time maybe?"

"What," she laughed, "like a date? Are you kidding?" His heart would have shattered right then and there if her laugh hadn't made it jump out of his chest. "I'm not your type, Cahill," Emmet cringed as the words he had repeated to himself many times in his head came back to bite him in the ass. "And don't think that this conversation about those is over," she said as she walked back into her apartment. He shook his head and leaned his forearms against the railing of the balcony and rested his face in his hands. He tried to quell the smile that threatened to take over as he thought about her blue eyes and how they were somehow always shining.

"She's not your type, Cahill," he repeated out loud to himself. It sounded different, harsher coming from her. Everything sounded different coming from her.

'Who even started you on that disgusting habit?' Her words came rushing back to his mind as he reached back into his pocket to get a cigarette.

'I did,' he thought to himself as he brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette and lit it. Emmet's mind went into overdrive as he took the first puff.

'God, what would my mom think? I've worked so hard to get where I'm at. My dad kicked my ass down the stairs to get me to those stupid auditions and this is how I repay them? What would George think about all of this?' Emmet cringed at that last thought.

'George is dead. He left, Emmet. You remember,' He had to cut the thought short before he could think back to the day he found out. That was the darkest day of his life and he wished he could forget it. He'd been trying to forget it since it happened. No matter what he tried to drown himself in, he couldn't drown the memories. He couldn't wake up from this nightmare. Emmet put out his cigarette and turned to make his way back into the apartment, but before he walked inside, he took another look at the dark night sky.

No stars tonight.

"Hey, you," she whispered to Emmet as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Hey," Emmet sighed as he returned the embrace.

"What's gotten into you? You seem really off tonight have I done something?" She asked as she pulled back slightly.

"I'm just stressed right now. That's all. You've done nothing wrong, I swear."

"Oh…okay well if you need your space you don't have to stay."

"No. Not at all. I'd like to stay right here if you'll let me. You're a much needed- and appreciated- distraction," Emmet smirked.

"Don't you give me that look."

"What look?" He smirked again.

"That look," she replied as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"Only if you stop giving me that look."

"I'm not making any promises, Cahill."

"Careful, Áine you might regret that later."

"Oh is that so?"

"Oh that's so," Emmet said before he kissed her. Áine braced herself against the wall and she tugged at his brown hair as Emmet's name tumbled from her dark red lips.

'Oh, it's going to be a long night,' He smirked into the feverish kiss as the first positive thought he'd had in a while popped into his mind.