𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐄 {𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠}

10 | the drugs, the sex, the lights

^ Every Night - Montell Fish (Or just listen to the entire album that should get you through it) ^

cw: smut (starts slow, ends rough)
• 5166 words

—

The cookies were all made, and now, we sat silently on the deck. He had something he wanted to get from his room, something he said would make this night better. I believed him, and when he finally came back outside, I didn't expect him to bring a pill bottle full of bud with him.

I sat on the edge of the lawn chair, cookie in hand as I watched the man I thought so innocently of pack the joint.

"Since when did you smoke?"

"I started first year of high school," He replies, his eyes focused on the joint, "But I do not do it often."

I hum, nodding, my eyes too locked in the joint. His fingers worked meticulously fast as he twisted the end, finishing it off before he licked up the side of it.

"You want the first hit?"

I shake my head, a smile on my face, "You first."

He shrugs slightly, pulling out a lighter from his pocket before he places the joint between his lips. He then raises the lighter to the end, effortlessly lighting the end before he sets the lighter down. The flame from the lighter lit up his scarred face, and I found myself staring as he inhaled.

He took it well for how deeply he inhaled. For me, I couldn't guarantee the same thing.

He blows the smoke out into the night, then extends his hand out to me with the joint between his fingers. I take it slowly, quickly setting it between my lips before I too begin to inhale.

It hit my chest fast, earning a deep cough from me as he smiles toward me. He then leans forward over his legs, his elbows resting on his knees, "Water?"

I shake my head, handing back the joint to him, "I'm good," I cough out.

But he ignores me, standing up and putting the joint in his mouth before he walks back inside.

He comes back with a glass of water, setting it down in front of me. I take it quickly, gulping down the liquid as it soothes the sting in my chest.

He takes one more hit, blowing it out from his nose before he opens his mouth to speak, "You've been on my mind since that night you invited me to your bed."

I choke, but contain myself, "Oh have I?"

He nods, passing me the joint, "If I knew you were in 141, I wouldn't have joined."

I scoff humorously, "Why's that?"

"Because you drive me crazy."

I smile, raising the joint to my lips. With every inhale, it became easier to take, and the more hits we took, the more flirtatious we got.

"You take it very well," I tell him, "Yet, you say you don't do it a lot."

"I don't," He replies.

I hum, staring at him as he stares directly back.

"I've seen you smoke before," He says, "Outside."

"Cigarettes," I tell him.

"Cigarettes are bad for you."

I smile, jerking my head toward the joint in his hand, "Weed is bad for you too."

He laughs it off, "But it feels better than cigarettes. And tastes better."