Bullet8

He smiled at me, but not in a typically friendly way. He looked entertained as he brought the smoking cigarette to his mouth, eyes on me. I was ok with being entertainment for him in the moment as I looked back. "You've got scary eyes." He told me as the smoke wafted from his lips. But he didn't look away. I was the one to, just for a moment, look down at my hands. "I've been told." I agreed. I felt weak in the knees, hot in my chest. I couldn't tell if this was attraction, or a deep mourning in my heart for the fact that I wasn't him. It was strange. He tilted his head as if to almost stoop to my shorter level. I looked back up. "have you smoked before?" He asked, maybe just to fill the air with empty conversation. I shook my head, even though I had before. I wanted to see if he'd share with me. He did, handing me the cigarette from between his slender fingers. I took it in my own and our skin brushed. I lifted it to my mouth to take a drag. It was strangely intimate, but it might've just been me who thought so, to share something his mouth had been on. He was watching me as I exhaled and handed it back, I remembered he had the impression it was my first time. He had been waiting for me to react, to cough. His smile grew as he took it. "You're a liar." He said playfully. For the first time in the conversation I smiled back with my teeth.