Paper Planes

3.

(Liv)
He opened the window above his bed. The cold december air flowed into the room.
I watched him as he got a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket and lit one of the cigarettes.

He put it to his lips and inhaled deeply. When he exhaled, white smoke curled its way out into the cold night from his lips.

"You shouldn't smoke", I said.
He turned around and looked at me. "Why not?", he asked as if it weren't obvious and took another puff.
"Smoking kills, Idiot." I answered.
"That is right.", he said calmly and turned back to the window to exhale more smoke.

He confused me.
"Why do you do it then? ", i asked him. He took a few more puffs before he turned around. He looked very sad.
And then it hit me. He didnt smoke although it was deadly, he smoked because it was deadly. I suddenly felt dumb and childish for asking.

He looked at the cigarette betwen his fingers.
"Smoking is the only kind of suicide our society accepts."
It broke my heart (once again). Oh god. I felt a strong need to hug him and tell him that everything was going to be ok. But i held it back. 

"It calms me", he added with a quiet voice, staring at his hands.
I didn't know what to say. I felt such strong sympathy for this boy. All i wanted was to see him recovering.

He sat down on the bed, his back leaning on the wall. We made eye contact across the room, not saying anything.
I got up, walked over to his bed and sat down next to him. He didn't look at me, just kept on smoking his cigarette. I wanted to say something. Instead I put my hand on his arm and he looked up.
"You're not alone, ok?" I said and gave him a smile. He smiled back. But it wasn't a real smile. It was like his lips were smiling but his eyes were screaming. The poor boy.
I leaned my head on his shoulder. His sweater smelled like cold smoke. It couldn't stand this smell, but managed to put up with it. For him.

After a while he leaned his head on mine.
"Thanks, Liv.", he mumbled quietly.
I smiled.