Intoxicating

Twenty-Six

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She told him to meet her by the bike shed. There were only a few people around. Three of which were huddled together in the cold, each with a burning cigarette perched between their fingers. The heavy smell of tobacco was simply intoxicating. It reminded him of before. The time when his future didn’t seem to exist and all his worries came closing in on him. Smoking was his escape, no matter how much his parents disapproved, or any parent for that matter. He only stopped smoking when his father almost beat him to a pulp after smelling the deadly scent on his lips.

He covered his nose with the corners of his coat collar. His face still shielded by the grey wool. He had to turn away from them, afraid he’ll return to his bad habits and perhaps die when he retuerns home.

Lily turned up shortly, distracting him from the smokers. The only smell that was overwhelming him now was her beautiful natural fragrance. She was also wrapped up. But not for the same reasons he was. Tate happened to love the cold, HOW IT CHILD HIS BONES TO NUMBNESS.

Lily didn’t seem cold though. In fact, she reminded him of a sunset or a beautiful waterfall despite the current weather. When he saw her walking with her friends, she outshined them all.

She wore a plum winter coat with a furry hood, which reminded him of a dead animal draped across her. She was biting her lip, which was slowly turning blue with the cold. Her hands didn’t really know where to go, so she held them together in front of her. “Hey Tate, I need to tell you something. Don’t hate me for this.” She couldn’t quite find the right words.

“I won’t.” He whispered, scared of what words were coming next.

                “Forget words. I know how to say it better.” And just like that she kissed him. It wasn’t just any kiss. Tate poured ever emotion he had for her into that kiss and so did she. He tasted like cocoa and gorgeousness.  Tate had never kissed a girl before but somehow he knew what he was doing. She tasted like roses. Not the dead ones but the real living ones. That was it. She’s the sole reason why he should carry on living. Just to see her face every morning. And boy, didn’t she taste finer than any tobacco he’d ever tasted.

Lily. Lily. Lily.