Oblivion

02 | Stairwells & Sushi

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Annabel inspected her dorm room with intesity, scanning to ensure that everything was in the right place. Given that she was in a single dorm, she had full creative authority, which she was grateful for. Annabel had spent months scouring the internet for a bedding set that would match her desires for her room. She landed upon a white bed spread, adorned with pink florals, along with matching light pink sheets. She had hung various posters around her room, mostly of flowers.

She loved flowers. Growing up in countryside in Maryland, flowers covered the surrounding areas of Annabel's home. The various nannies assigned to her by her mother would often take her outside on walks, in which she would trim the blooms to make a bouquet to keep in her bedroom. She adored them.

When Annabel felt as though she was satisfied with the set-up of her room, she moved towards the door, exiting the room, intent on finding food.

She walked down the hallway, towards the stairwell, making her way down the first few steps. Suddenly, the smell of cigarette smoke clouded her senses. She was a sheltered child, but she knew the smell due to her father's incessant habit.

After pausing, Annabel continued down the stairs as the scent grew stronger.

A black hoodie came into view, with a dark mop of hair on top of it. The person was sitting on the stairwell, smoking a cigarette.

Coming to a complete halt, Annabel was unsure of what to do. Does she walk past them, ignoring the situation altogether? Is this something that people do in college? She didn't know how to handle this.

The person must have heard her steps coming down the stairs, as they turned around after the sudden pause. Annabel was greeted with brown eyes and a chiseled jawline, belonging to a boy whose hair was undoubtedly wet, along with his hoodie. His lips held the cigarette, pursed, sucking the smoke into his lungs.

He breathed it out, behind him, so she didn't receive the cloud making its way out of his lungs.

"You look like a deer in headlights, you should see your face," the boy said. His voice was undoubtedly deep, enunciating each word, humor lining his words.

"I-uh, I just didn't know we were allowed to do that here," Annabel responded.

"We aren't, I just don't care." The boy cracked a smile, full of straight, white teeth.

"Why don't you s-smoke it outside?" Annabel's stutter was coming through due to her nervousness. She didn't want to make a wrong impression on the first person she meets at the University of Washington.

"It's very clearly raining outside, have you not looked out your window?"

"No, I didn't realize," Annabel said, looking down at her shoes, feeling silly.

The boy took the cigarette between his lips again, sucking the air out of it, his demeanor clearly changing. It was almost as though he had come to the realization that Annabel wasn't interested in making fun of him or ratting him out. He looked the girl up and down, inspecting her.

"Did your parents just drop you off?" His voice had audibly softened, just a bit.

"Yes, my mom did. I'm a first-year. Are you a student here?" Her curiosity was peaking, but she made sure not to come across too eager.

"I'm a third-year."

Annabel's nose began to get stuffed up, just as it does whenever her father would smoke around her. She never understood why, it just always seemed to happen.

"D-do you think you could put out your cigarette? I don't mean to be rude, my sinuses are just particularly sensitive to them," she asked in the nicest tone she could. She didn't want the boy to think badly of her.