And suddenly she arches her back, fumbling around in her heavy leather jacket. Her fingers scrabbling softly at the material. And then she pulls out her crumpled old packet, half-full of hand-rolled cigarettes. She flips the top, and carefully chooses one, fumbling slightly as she grips it between her lips. She flicks her lighter. It sparks. Minute golden-red fireworks cutting through the night, reflecting in her eyes like distorted flames. The end of her cigarette suddenly glares red, a thin stream of smoke escaping into the freezing night air. She rolls over, lying on her back, and takes a long drag. Closing her eyes, holding her breath. And then, after a long moment, breathing out softly through her nose.
“Want one?” she asks me softly, pulling her cigarette out of her mouth. Balancing it between her fingers, her lips barely moving.
“I think I do, yeah” I whisper. Looking at her. The thick night air laced with smoke between us casting her face into semi-darkness.
“You don’t smoke” she murmurs, her eyes flashing open and registering blank surprise before fixing onto my face. Pushing her cigarette between her lips once again.
“I’m not into girls either” I reply quickly. And then she laughs, throwing her bead back, her back arching.
“Come here then-” she clutches her still-burning cigarette with her thumb and forefinger, pulling it from her lips. I snuggle closer to her, and she tilts my chin towards her. And she passes the cigarette to me, blowing smoke softly onto my skin, as she lets me grip it between my teeth.
I breathe in quickly. Inhaling a lungful of burning smoke into my body. I can feel it, tearing away at my chest. My stomach churns and for one blinding, sweating moment I’m scared I’m going to be sick.
“Urgh-” I cough, my chest heaving. My tongue burns, my throat scratches. I can feel hot tears stinging at my eyes.
“Nice?” she laughs, dimples pressing into her cheeks.
“Fuckin hell that’s vile Cheryl-” I cough, my hands shaking. I almost drop the cigarette, but Cheryl quickly takes it from me, propping it coolly between her lips as she laughs. My head suddenly feeling very light. I watch the end of the cigarette glow quickly as she takes another long drag, splinters of ash flying away from the tip. She exhales slowly, sucking her cheeks in and out as I continue to cough, my lungs heaving in protest.
“Wha-what are you doing?” I ask her, spluttering. And she laughs, a final stream of smoke flying from her lips.
“I was trying to blow smoke rings-” she giggles, pulling me closer. “So no more smoking for you?” she smiles.
“It’s rank Chez, rank. And it burns like-”
“Like your lungs are in hell?” she suggests quietly.
“Yeah” I sigh, and she flicks the ash from the end of her cigarette, looking up at me. Her eyes gentle, mirroring the quiet smile still hovering around her lips.
“Let me kiss you better-” she leans towards me, her breath still burning hot. She kisses me gently, her eyes wide open. I can taste the cigarette smoke on her tongue. Or maybe that’s my tongue. My lips. Or her lips. I don’t know anymore. I just close my eyes and smile into the kiss. Her chest on my chest. Her uninjured hand still fiddling with her cigarette, flicking ash away, into the night.
And then she tears her lips away from my own, her eyes flitting rapidly over my face as she stubs out her cigarette, leaving it dying and lopsided on the cold concrete. The imprint of her lips still marked onto the end, tiny ridges where she’d bitten into it.
“Why do you do it? Do you even like it?” I ask her, my eyes fixed on the broken body of her discarded cigarette.
“Smoke?”
