Reaching Insanity (Matt Smith fanfic)

A Belated Note for my readers.

I haven't been on to update in a quite a while, and as much as I appreciate the gratitude you all feel towards my story. I must put it on hold.

I am currently working on a project outside of Wattpad, Involving Young-Adult book publishers. Thought the question stands as though whether or not my current project draws the interest of my intended audience- You!

It would be much appriciated if you could take the time to read this brief segment from my most recent project and give your opinion and/or overall reveal.
(Does this writing intrigue you? Would you pick up this book? What does this writing make you feel?-make you think? Etc.)

Feedback as soon as possible would be acceptional! Thank you~ much love-

His eyes scarcely met mine, but when they did it was terrifying. His pupils were deep, harsh. They bore into me, gripping me tight like a fist, threatening to knock the air out of me. They held some sort of emotion, like he had seen something that no one should see. They were full of something dark, something you couldn't see in the distance. I was wrong about him. The narcissistic asshole with the cigarette had saved me and that was something I couldn't have guessed from afar. I had never really looked into his eyes, really looked.

Have I been wrong about people all along?

His gaze shifted, his face grew stern, as if he were afraid to let me see into his dark irises. As if he had something to hide. He slipped a hand into his pocket, leaning forward off the couch. He retrieved a cigarette and held it between two pursed lips. With a sharp click-click, a flame licked the end, turning the papered edges brown. He closed his troubled eyes and exhaled his drag from the fresh cigarette. The smoke flittered upward, dispersing before it hit the ceiling. Then he shifted towards me, I shook my head at the offer.

"I hate cigarettes," I whispered softly, afraid to break the subtle silence of the now, foggy room. I had tried to smoke in junior-high, thinking it'd make me look badass. Instead it left me coughing with the taste of dirt in my throat.

"Me too," he huffed out another puff of smoke, running his tongue quick over his lips after doing so. "They taste like shit." He rolled the cigarette between his fingertips, examining it as if he couldn't quite figure out how it got in his hand in the first place. I raised an expectant eyebrow at him. His lips curled up in a soft half smile, exposing a white k9 tooth. He sucked in another mouthful of smoke. He chuckled and spoke through the smoke as it slowly spilled from his mouth with each word, "The burn reminds me that I'm alive." His lips were indented with marks from being chewed on in thought, I watched them when he talked, they were full, yet damaged. The dim cloud dipped down as if to stroke his face before filtering up and disappearing yet again into the air. The smoke hung between us like a façade, guarding our eyes from each other.

"It could kill you." I stated, not quite sure why I was even attempting to bargain with him.

His lips twisted comically but his expression fell hard yet again. He simply twisted the cigarette into a tray, biting his lip back his mouth held a pursed, forced smile. His eyebrows knitted bitterly as the last smoke from the ashes trickled from the crushed tip of his cigarette. His fingers released the stub and he spoke low and steady, his voice filled with inconspicuousness. "No," he stared hard as the trickle of dark fog gently began to fan out into the air bringing his dark eyes into focus, "Nothing can kill me."