Author's Note: Wrote this early December. I'm happy to say I've broken my own smoking addiction very recently. The new year's looking up. Hope you enjoy.
"Is that what I think it is?"
He turns to her and smiles as she takes a seat beside him on the curb and snatches the cigarette from his mouth.
"It's not lit."
"Still, you had the intent of smoking it."
"Not really. I just felt like putting it in my mouth."
"You're exasperating sometimes."
"So most times I'm not?"
Silence falls as quickly as dusk and she tries to placate the unrest in her stomach by rolling the cigarette between her fingers.
"Smoking is bad for you."
"A lot of things are bad for you."
"Yeah, but cigarettes are proven to be bad for you."
"Like how I'm proven to be bad for you?"
"Adam…"
"Forget it." He forces a laugh and crosses his arm across his chest, softly breathing out and studying his cold breath against the black night.
"Sometimes I wonder, you know, that maybe somewhere… somewhere far away… like France or something... there's another person sitting on a curb, looking up at the sky, smoking a cigarette. I'd like to know what the hell he's thinking about right now. I'd like to know if maybe he's thinking the same things I am."
"France is a long way from here. I'm pretty sure he'd have other things on his mind."
"I don't know. Love and the lack of it is a universal thing." He shakes his head and leans back, staring at the barely visible stars.
"Yeah, well, for his sake, let's hope the French guy has someone stealing his cigarettes too."
"You kill me, Becky. You know that? You kill me." He softly laughs, still staring up at the sky.
"If I don't, the cigarettes eventually will." She replies, still rolling the cigarette between her fingers.
"But of course." Nodding slowly, he smirks, "Unlit cigarettes are the menace to society, only second to the homosexuals and the transgendered boys and girls. "
"You know I don't believe that." Frowning, she turned towards him, "I don't believe that."
"Yeah."
"I really don't!"
"Three months. We dated for three months. Was I that terrible?"
"You weren't! You were… terrific."
"And then out of the blue you dropped me like a bad habit."
"I don't-" He snatches the cigarette back from her hands.
"Like I was nothing but this to you."
"I don't hate you. I was scared. I was… I loved you so much. I felt addicted to you."
"So you quit me. Fine. But I'm not a fucking cigarette. I'm not a bad habit. I'm a person, Becky. Damn it, I'm a fucking person."
"Adam…" He pulls out a lighter and lights the cigarette, holding it to his mouth to erase the empty cold around him.
"Marlboro. Maybe I should change my name to that. Marlboro Torres, the human cigarette, blown and burned and trashed by the woman he loved."
"Stop it!" She's fighting tears as she grabs for the cigarette between his teeth.
"It's just a damned cigarette, Becky. I'll toss it away when I'm done with it. Aren't you familiar with that? I'll let it make me feel good. I'll let it burn for me. And then I'll put it out when I'm satisfied."
"I-" Her lip quivers and he feels a bit guilty but he doesn't allow himself to feel. He can't.
"I want to hate you," Shaking his head, he turns to her, "Every day, I want to hate you."
Eyes tearing, she turns away from him, trying her best not to let any of the tears drop.
"But I can't."
Hand shaking from the cold, he wipes the lone tear that escapes her eyes and sighs.
"And the cigarettes burn my lips like how you used to," His voice is fragile, "Can't you see I need this?"
"Adam, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Just… just let me finish this cigarette, alright?"
She blinks, trying to clear her vision, finally resorting to using her arm to wipe the tears obstructing her view of him. The sight of him smoking, the empty look in his eyes, the desperation in his fingers, and the sadness in his smile breaks her heart. She doesn't feel happy without him; she thought she was doing the right thing back then. He wasn't supposed to be for her. It wasn't supposed to work.
Or maybe it was. Maybe she was just an idiot. Maybe she was just a coward.
"Adam-" She grabs the cigarette from his mouth and before he can react, she captures his lips with her own.
Despite the smoky taste of his mouth, she wants more. She wants him, she wants him so bad. She misses his warmth, his smile, his hands, his eyes, his everything. She misses this.
It takes a few seconds to register that he hasn't moved.
"I… I'm sorry."
She gets up as quickly as the cold would permit but before she can take a step, a hand reaches out and holds her back.
"I thought you said I was bad for you." He says when she faces him, the cigarette crushed on the ground, forgotten.
"Yeah, well, a cigarette is bad for you too, and I figure a kiss is the lesser of two evils." She mumbles an excuse, blushing when he grins at her.
"Oh."
"I love you." The words pour from her mouth, "I never stopped. I think about you constantly. I'm just so scared that you'll… you'll find someone else. You'll meet someone else and won't want me anymore. I never felt that before. I'm so scared to lose you so I thought that if I let you go now, I wouldn't have to be so scared all the time."
"Did it work?" He asks.
"No. I was so scared of losing you that I ended up leaving you." She lets out a faint laugh, "God, that sounds so stupid when I say it out loud. I was frightened of being hurt that I allowed the both of us to be. I'm a self-fulfilling prophecy, that's what."
"So you love me still?"
"I do. And it's scary because it's out of my control, Adam." She answers honestly, laughing at herself, "It's out of my control."
"You hurt me. When you left, you really hurt me. You broke me down. I felt like dying. I think a part of me did."
"I… I should go. I'm sorry." She makes a motion to leave again but he pulls her into his arms.
"I still love you, Becky. I'm happy you're here. I'm happy you said that you still love me too."
"I've been so terrible to you, Adam. I'm sorry, I need to go." She feels tears forming at her eyes again, but he responds gently, looking her in the eyes.
"You want to leave now? I've got a whole pack of Marlboro's in my pocket, you know. Am I allowed to smoke them?" Jokingly, he grins at her.
"Of course not!" She softly smacks his arm, smiling at him.
"You've got to help me out, then, Becky. I can't drop this bad habit alone. You'll help me, right?" He leans closer to her.
"Yeah." She whispers, her eyes transfixed by his own, subconsciously licking her own lips as he draws closer.
"Good."
"What are you going to do about those Marlboros, Adam?"
"The guy in France can have them."
She laughs.
He finishes off the distance between them, and as their lips collide once more, she melts into his arms. She almost misses him murmur into her mouth, too absorbed by his warm lips and his loving embrace.
"My lips were getting a little tired of cigarettes. They don't burn enough."
She tries to respond but her words get lost in her mind when his arms wrap around her waist.
He's right.
She feels it.
Fire.