"So, which one of them did you fuck?" He asked when she had stopped talking to light another cigarette. The lighter stopped centimeters from her mouth. Her jaw dropped, she caught the falling cigarette and turned her face his way. Her eyes seemed to widen as her brows set themselves in a frown. He remained motionless, expressionless, and seemingly content with the reaction he had provoked.

"That is an obscenely offensive question. How the hell did you reach that conclusion?"
"Well, that's your sixth cigarette in half an hour, you're becoming increasingly erratic, which doesn't suit you at all and, frankly, you don't seem like the kind of person who gets upset easily, which means that this must be a pretty big problem and its been my experience that big problems tend to follow, linearly, from … fucking." He finished with a casual shrug.

She fell silent and turned her attention back to lighting her cigarette, she spaced out a bit as she watched the tip burn away. She didn't inhale, just held it between her lips, the way she had the first time she had tried a cigarette. It was her fifteenth birthday and Moses had said that it came with the package. It was an initiation of sorts, the thing she told herself she did to prove she was their friend. She never became addicted; the next cigarette she smoked was at the end of her freshman year in college when she had been bummed out about screwing up a final. Moses had participated... correction, prompted that indulgence as well.

"You're not even gonna deny it?" He asked rhetorically, grunting out a laugh.
"What's the point? You've already made up your mind about me."
"Says who?"
"Says that judgmental tone in your voice." She said, her voice clipped with anger.
"It's not in my nature to be judgmental and if it sounds like I'm carving out some preconceptions, then I'm sorry. I'm not. I'm just listening... Listening and thinking."
"You can't do both at the same time." She scoffed at him.
"Why not?" He asked, looking over at her.
"Cause you're not a woman."
He threw his head back and laughed. A deep, guttural laugh that made her senses relax a little. She even attempted a genuine smile in return.
"So...? Which is it? Are you listening or thinking?" She cocked her head to one side, listening for his reply.

He looked out at the water, narrowing his eyes a bit; perhaps as a shield from the suns' glare, perhaps in focus. It was a full minute before he answered her.
"Thinking." He replied, his head tilted to one side, a playful smile coloring his lips.
She nodded. He noticed that the smile she was giving in return, while genuine, was also, somehow, tinged with sadness... sadness and maybe a brush of wisdom. She knew something. He wasn't sure what, but she knew something.
"You know?" She finally said, flicking the ashes off the edge of her cigarette and shaking her head from side to side. "People think they are thinking when really they are just... rearranging their prejudices."

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Now Playing: Sometimes you can't make it alone By: U2

such a sad song... full of melancholy and regret... Beautiful.

-Layla

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