"Are you sure you're allowed to smoke in here?"
Michael took a deep drag from the cigarette Florence had left for him the other day before handing it back to her, settling into his pillows. He shrugged—or, came as close to a shrug as he could without wincing in pain. Smoke billowed from past his lips as his eyes flickered back to Florence.
"Definitely not," Michael muttered, watching Florence as she took a drag. "But if anybody stops me from smoking right now, I'll plant a fucking explosive in here and blow us all to hell, I swear to God."
Florence rolled her eyes at his dramatic words and placed her cigarette back between his lips, letting him finish the rest off. "Oh, be quiet and finish up, quick," she said, placing her book back on the night table. "Before the nurses come."
"You leaving already?" Michael asked as he lifted a shaky hand to his lips, plucking out the butt of the cigarette and handing it off to Florence, who mashed the lit end of the butt against the bottom of the glass on the table. "I swear you've just arrived."
Florence gave him a little look out of the side of her eye. "I've been here an hour already," she defended, standing to her feet and lifting his blankets higher, taking gentle care of the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. "Besides, dad needs me at the factory. He's thinking of taking on a fighter and he wants me to have a look."
Michael raised his brows. "A fighter?"
Florence nodded. "His name's Bonnie Gold," she said, shrugging into her jacket and doing up the buttons, pointedly avoiding Michael's eye and hoping that it wasn't too obvious that she was doing so. "A Romani boy with wild ambition, apparently."
"Are you blushing?" Michael asked incredulously, which only made Florence's face go even warmer. "Good Lord, woman. You fancy him. Already?"
"I do not!" Florence huffed, stomping her foot and immediately regretting the action when Michael's brows shot up into his hair, a stupid, nasty cheshire grin curling around his mouth. "I just find him interesting, is all. Is that such a crime?"
Michael couldn't help but tease. "To your father, it is," he said, giving his head an incredulous shake. "Best of luck, angel. Hopefully your dad doesn't get this boy killed before he can fall in love with you."
Resisting the strong, strong urge to slap him, Florence leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before straightening up. "I've left my pistol in the chamber pot, fully loaded," she whispered loud enough for only him to hear, and he nodded. "Use it if you need it, okay?"
"What about you?" Michael asked, something like concern shifting onto his face. "What if you need it?"
Florence pursed her lips. Bonnie Gold's strong shoulders and the pistol holstered in his belt flashed through her mind. "Something tells me I'll be okay."
Walking out of the hospital, Florence stuck a cigarette into her mouth and lit it, catching a nasty look from the nurses at the entrance. She rolled her eyes, waving obviously and exaggeratedly at the very doors she was walking out of.
"Oi, Gypsy princess. I'm here to escort you safely to your next destination."
Glancing up, Florence felt a grin split across her face as she caught sight of Bonnie Gold
leaning against the light post across the street, his hands tucked into his pockets, hat fixed over his curly head of hair. Glancing both ways for incoming cars, Florence headed over to the other side.
"Gypsy princess, aye? I'm royalty now?" Florence spoke around her cigarette, inhaling deeply before taking it from her lips, flicking it to the ground behind her as she got closer.
