Cigarettes

Chapter 7

"It was helping me some time ago-" Luke suddenly started and made me turn back to look at him. He noticed my confused expression and continued. "The smoking. It was helping me to get my mind off of things, but now I'm just addicted."

I stared at him for a couple of seconds, trying to put the pieces together. Concidering my state, this was probably not the best time for me to be having this kind of conversation with someone.

"It's a good step for an addict to admit they're addicted. If you didn't want to admit you probably wouldn't even have a chance to stop." I rambled, saying irrelevant stuff. Luke looked at me with an unreadable expression and I was just waiting for him to start laughing again, but he didn't.

"Anyway. What was it getting your my off of?" I changed the subject quickly, turning myself to him. I sat with my both legs crossed, the bowl still in my lap.

Luke opened his mouth to talk, but before he could, a really bad feeling appeared inside of me and the next thing I know is grabbing that bowl like my life is depending on it.

-

After puking, drinking milk and puking again, eating some chips and drinking a lot of water, I finally felt better. It was now half past three in the morning and Luke and I have never been more awake.

"So" I started, looking at our feet that were spread on the carpet in front of us. I noticed Luke had really long legs and huge feet. It was surprising because even though he was really tall, he wasn't clumsy at all. Or maybe I just didn't know him well enough to tell. "You were saying?" I finally continued after the flow of my thoughts has ended.

He turned his head right and looked at me, tilting his head back to rest it on the couch. That made his Adam's apple pop out and I couldn't help but stare a bit before looking him in the eyes.

"It was helping me get my mind off of someone." he finally said. His voice was low and whispery and I wondered what feeling it was that I recognized in it.

I didn't say anything and hoped he would continue on his own.

"She left." he simply said and looked at the ceiling.

"She left you?" it was me who was whispering now too, looking at him. The sight of Luke so vulnerable, laying on the floor with a slight hangover, looking at the ceiling, his face so relaxed and young looking, so peaceful made me look at him completely differently. I wished he would shoot me his famous jerky smirk, but he didn't. He stayed in the exact same position with the exact same face expression.

"Mhm." he mumbled.

I didn't know what to say so I nodded and leaned against the couch again, copying his position. We laid in silence for a couple of minutes, neither of us saying anything.

"I'm sorry." I finally said. Luke stayed quiet and I assumed that's his way to say 'thank you' or something.

Did Luke just share a personal thing with me? And it so being very personal? I'd feel bad if I didn't say anything back.

"My grandpa died from cancer five years ago." I whispered looking down at my hands. Luke looked at me with surprise in his eyes, like he wasn't expecting me to tell him that.

"Oh." he said in a quiet tone. "I'm sorry."

"He was very important to me because I spent most of my childhood with him. Even more than with my father." I explained and his surprise lowered a bit.

"You call your dad father?" Luke asked and brought his head up from the couch.

"Yeah, I don't really know him like a child should know their father." I tried to explain again and Luke nodded, telling me he got it.