𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]

[47]: his cigarettes

"One of those," I gestured to the cigarette in his hand and he finally caught on. He scoffed, shaking his head and blowing out the smoke I wanted to consume.

I had never smoked before, but I didn't doubt that I had somehow gotten second-hand just from being around Daryl, or the people back at 'The Castle'. There wasn't really a "no smoking" rule there when there really should have been. It only added to the concealed nature of what went on inside that club, among the strobe lights and fog. Sometimes you could hardly see your clients or your fellow girls.

"Please," I asked once again, taking my hand and running it through my hair, giving my scalp a massage for a relentless headache I was destined to get from my haywire sleeping schedule.

"They'll kill ya'," he argued, walking closer to me. He was now facing me, and I had to strain my neck to look him in the eyes.

"That's not a really good argument since, you're smoking them now," I smirked. I licked my lips, watching as he was trying his best not to talk to me.

"No," he said gruffly, not looking me in the eyes. He was a fair bit away from me as he, himself, sat down against the shed.

I crossed my legs, taking my hands and placing them on the ground to lift myself closer to him. Even when his face showed the least emotions, he still looked annoyed as hell.

Everything inside of me was screaming to apologize, or say something that wasn't teasing or mean towards him - but I found it hard, for some reason. So I started out small, wringing my hands together in my lap, where the blanket I had gathered.

I took a deep breath before talking. "Sorry, then." It felt weird to be apologising when I didn't want to. I felt like I deserved a million apologies from everyone, not necessarily the group - but a damn lot of people.

And I could probably name them all.

I paused before looking at him. He'd stopped smoking and looked at me with a confused stare.

"For telling you that you'll end up alone," I explained. "Let's be real here, between us, I'll be the one ending up alone." I looked around us for a moment, taking in the scenery that was hardly visible, only to look at him again and find that he hadn't moved his stony look away from me.

I visibly swallowed.

"Or better yet," I whispered. "Dead."

"Don't," he said immediately after. "Just... don't."

"What?" I asked, my eyes glistening. My breaths were heavy and I bit my bottom lip before continuing. "I don't deserve what you do." I shook my head, hair falling in my eyes and going between my eyelashes. It hurt slightly but I didn't wipe it away. "You deserve so much better than my company."

"Is this you tryin' to apologise," he sighed, finishing off his cigarette and stamping it out on the ground beside him.

"Kinda," I whispered again. My voice hurt from the screaming, drinking, and yelling. "I was only lying about you, to you, to hurt you."

"And then I realised you don't deserve it. But you're the only person I'm going to say sorry to. Everyone on this goddamn farm can--"

"Marls," he interrupted.

I looked to him, the words sucked back into my throat and hanging on the edge of my tongue. He had another cigarette between his fingers, pointed towards me.

"Really?"

He simply dropped it in my lap and shuffled around his pockets, patting his chest until he found a lighter - dropping that in my lap.