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13 T E M P T A T I O N S
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THE CONTRACT Levi signed was extremely strict. Due to all his past alcohol abuse, countless fights—which happened to be at a pub—he wasn't allowed to go out to bars.
It irked him since alcohol was his way of releasing stress. Simple as that. Typically, he was almost always drunk and it always resulted in being in a fight to release his anger. It'd been three days since his last drink and the alcohol was just sitting on his shelf, going untouched.
Working for Irene Cider had distracted him from his needs, but it was his day off and he didn't have any community service. His muscles weren't in as much pain as they were the previous days; still, doing nothing all day had let him focus on the pulsating sensations they gave off.
He sat in his small kitchen on the chair in front of the table, rubbing his temples as he tried to soothe the pain from his head. The desire to take a bottle out of the shelf had started to grow intolerable. Levi licked his lips and averted his gaze from his phone and to his liquor cabinet. It felt like he was going insane.
Levi got up, so fast his chair fell to the ground. He clenched his jaw and walked over to the fridge, searching for something to consume as a distraction. His fist met the wall when he didn't find anything.
"Fuck it!" He exclaimed, walking to his door and slipping on his shoes. His eyes flicked to the box of cigarettes on the shoe shelf. Levi hesitated, still uncertain if smoking would help. When he remembered the thoughts of drinking, he grabbed the packet, shoved it in his pocket, and briskly began to walk away from the small apartment.
It felt like years by the time he was out of the building, when in reality, it was only three minutes exiting the apartment complex. Levi made his way to the same alleyway he'd been smoking at for the last three years. The truth was that he tried to smoke either once or twice a month. He'd grown addicted after a few times, so he used alcohol to avoid cigarettes. Even then, Levi found it better than smoking almost everyday, even if it had a bad effect as well.
Levi didn't like smoking because of how addicting it was. He'd rather drink since it didn't have a disgusting scent to it as the cigars did. Now that it had been taken away, he was going to temporarily use cigarettes as a replacement.
Once he reached the alleyway, Levi pulled out the lighter and a cigar. He placed the stick between his lips and used his hand to block out the wind that had the potential to blow out the flame. Once it was lit up, the scent already begun to slam into him.
His eyes closed and his shoulders slumped as he released a puff of the smoke. His hand fell, and he slipped the one holding the lighter in his pocket. When he opened his eyes, he let them travel to the sky.
