Depth

Putting a cigarette to his mouth, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye.
"One of these days, they'll kill you."

It was our routine. Then he'd light it and take a long drag.

He chuckled "Death is as inevitable as you falling in love with me cherry-pie."

I scoffed, "You wish."
His murky brown eyes held my gaze, "maybe I do," he whispered, almost too soft for me to hear.

It was strange that the smell of his expiration was a reassuring sign that he was real to me; vivid.

Drag. Sigh. Exhale.

The sound of his breath filled the silence of the night.

The moon's light shone almost ominously. The dark waves crashing against the face of the high cliff provided tranquility. His expressive eyes closed, eyelashes fanned against his dark skin, as his plump lips enclosed around the cigarette, taking a long drag.

Exhale.

"Why do you like those damn things so much anyways?" I queried for the umpteenth time. It was my way of trying to show him they were stupid.

Each time I asked he'd say 'cause I just do.'

But this time was different. He looked at the fag wistfully. "Cause, Nancy Drew, they help me forget. At least for awhile."

He didn't say anything after that.

Drag. Exhale.

It sounded cryptic to me. And I wouldn't be me if I didn't press on.
"Like what?"

"Fucking Nancy Drew!"

"Language moron."

He always laughed when I did that, throwing jibes at me about being a 'goody-two-shoes'.

"I just want to help you; be there for you."

"You're already here for me cherry-pie."

"You know what I mean."

He released a low chuckle, fixing his gaze on the full moon.

The gentle breeze causing his short curly hair to move ever so slightly.

I studied his features, memorising every mole, each laugh line and even every line that showcased his sorrow.
I memorised the smell of him, the cologne he always wore, mixed with his special manly scent.

Those lines creased with worry as he took his next drag, a smaller one than the others. Then he released the fumes.

"Do you ever think that, maybe your whole life is a joke? A sad joke?"

"Everyone has their good and bad moments."

"My whole life has been a bad moment cherry-pie. You're the only good thing. My mother wished she never had me, my father bailed before I was even born. Can you believe that? The people that were meant to love you, don't. "

I couldn't say anything, the lump in my throat made me mute.

"Do you know what it's like growing up unloved. It fucks you up for life. My mother was a prostitute. Her pimp would come around, and they'd get so high that she'd forget I even existed. I had to learn to do things on my own at such a young age. But you, you made sure I knew what it was like to be a child sometimes."

I could hear the sadness in his voice. I yearned to make the pain go away, but that wasn't possible.
Growing up, I was sheltered from the stories of his mother. As I got older, I understood more and heard stories about her, but I never said anything to him, for fear of embarrassing or angering him. Then she overdosed on cocaine, leaving him even more alone.

"Sometimes I just feel as though I'm drowning. Physical pain feels much better..." he didn't finish the sentence, but I knew what he meant.

I was sorry he had such a rough life. I was sorry he felt unloved. I was sorry for him. But I knew he'd never want to hear that, because he hated pity.

"Things do get better." I tried to reassure him. I wanted him to be happy, but he wasn't.

"Not for me, cherry-pie. Not for me." he muttered, taking another drag.

He stood up from the bench we were seated on, eyes still on the moon, backing me.

"You know, the moon makes me feel a little less down."

"And why is that?"

"Because even in the dark it shines. It waits all day, absorbing the sun's rays to make it shine."

He turned those brown eyes to me "You're my sun."

I could feel the moisture on my cheeks. His words held so much meaning, so much depth.

"You're the one person I hate to disappoint."

I went to him, wrapping my arms around his torso, pressing my face on the back of his black leather jacket.

"Stay." I said my eyes watering, as I hugged him tighter.

He wiped the tears from my eyes with the pad of his thumb, giving me a lopsided grin.

"Please."

"Cherry-pie." He kissed my forehead, wrapping his thick arms around me.

"Please stay, Gabriel." I whispered.

He kissed my tear-stained cheeks. Wrapping his jacket around me, he said "I can't live like this, Cher."

He passionately kissed me, bringing me to him. Connecting our damaged souls. Bringing the memories we shared together in mind.

Eating mud pies when we were eight.
Our first day at public school, when we cried in my mom's car.
Us having food fights in my mom's kitchen, and then my mom scolding us.
Gabriel and I arguing every day.
Gabriel being my favourite person in the whole world, and me being his.

We belonged to each other. That was the simplest thing in our lives.

The taste of cigarettes lingered on his tongue. His manly scent wrapped around me, in what I knew was the very last time.

He pulled away.
"Inevitable." he said gifting me his lopsided grin.

He took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled then gave it to me. I took a drag also then smashed the fag under my shoe, exhaling.

Gabriel walked to the edge of the cliff, turning to face me, "I love you Cher!" he shouted, then he turned and jumped to his ultimate death.

"I love you too, " I said to the air, the tears falling onto the smashed cigarette.