Cigarette | l.p.

06

"You're not fucked up Morana." I spoke the truth, scooting closer to her, her body still cold. "You're just different. You have a different mind, a nicer mind." At least I thought so. Her mind actually saw everything as it was. It's seen a bigger truth.

She looked down at how close we were sitting, her hair smelled like nicotine.

"I feel like it. I'm not like you. I'm not perfect." Her voice trembled, she looked down in her lap, fiddling with her blue fingers, glancing from the pricey couch we were sitting on, to the glass hanging above us, providing light.

"Neither am I. I'm far from it." I spoke lightly, thinking a to why she seen me as perfect.

"Yes you are. Look where you live. You have everything you could ask for. And your not ugly." She softened her voice at he last words, embarrassed to even speak them.

I couldn't help for a smile to form on my face, causing her to blush.

"Well thank you. But that doesn't make me perfect." I smiled, leaning back on the couch, breathing in more nicotine. Morana looked down at her slowly burning cigarette.

"Then what is perfection? That's what I want to be, I hear about it all the time, and I can only dream of it." Her voice was small, shaking with each word.

"It's non-existent."

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sorry for such a short chapter. I'm hoping to update like a lot tomorrow and maybe post something new. would you like that? let me know

and new cover credit goes to: -borntodie- thanks a ton. xx