Chemistry || Holtzbert- UNFINISHED

smoke

warning: nodda (nope)
summary: holtzmann smokes and a certain someone gets mad/worried
ps: the parts in the story happen over time. Each ' - ' is like a time skip. and this is not edited so please excuse the spelling mistakes.

-

  'Somebody to lean on,'
  Bill Withers softly plays on the radio beside the working engineer.
   A soft New York breeze moves the messy hair of the scientist as she let out a puff of smoke. Holtzmann places the cigarette on the side of her mouth and she sits back in her chair to admire her newest creation, the finished Grenade.
   She heard the footsteps of  high heels walking up the steps to the roof. Holtzmann pretended to not care and she let out a large puff as smoke as Erin stepped onto the surface of the roof.
She watches as Erin's face scrunches up to the stale smell.
"What's up O' buddy pal?" Holtzmann says as she props on her goggles again. She lifts the blowtorch dangerously close to her face to relight the cigarette, as it had gone out due to the breeze. Then she went to start weilding on the small grenade again, noticing a few mistakes.
"You really need to stop that!" Erin yells over the loud humming of the blowtorch, pulling her coat around her slim frame tighter.
Holtzmann turns off the blowtorch and smirks to see Erin roll her eyes.
"I ment that." She gestures to the small role in the corner of Holtzmann's mouth.
"Why should I?" She said as she pulled up the sleeves to her vintage trench coat, oblivious to the cold. Erin stomped her way in front of the working engineer.
"Will you stop that!" Erin argues as Holtzmann lets out a big puff of smooe in front of Erin, the grey smoke hitting her in the face. Holtz grins and turns off the blowtorch for good.
She lifts up the small weapon she had just created and holds it close to her face, gently like a baby. Her legs swing off the overcrowded desk, knocking over a bunch of tools and metal  as she gets ready to get up.
"Wanna test out this new baby?"
"I want you to stop smoking first Holtz. You know that It's horrible for your lungs."
"Why aren't you that protective when I use the blowtorch without a mask?"
Erin frowns, the wrinkles around her mouth become more prominent.
"Don't frown my darlin'. You'll look eighty by the time you're reach downstairs."
With that comment the Physics Scientist left, leaving Holtzmann alone in the mess of her work, the soft sounds of Bill Withers, and the strong lingering smell of tobacco.
-
"Stop that," Erin complains as her fellow Ghostbuster pulls out a pack of cigarettes.
The two scientists were walking down the messy street coming back from the cafe. Abby and Patty are ahead, putting up new posters. Erin can hear the faint noises of Patty yelling at Abby about the slogan, again.
Erin sighs and she could see her warm breath in the cold December air. Her hands cover her warm tea in attempt to gather some warmth.
Holtzmann slips her gloved hand into her thin leather jacket. It was freezing but the engineer didn't care. Her other hand was wrapped around bitter coffee.
Holtzmann ignores her statement from earlier and pushes her yellow tinted glasses to the side of her face letting them hang from her left ear. She crouches over to light up the small cigarette.
"It's like eating Pringles, Gilbert. Once you start eating those tasty snacks there's no stoppi-HEY" Holtzmann states as Erin smacks the pack out of her hand, the full pack spilling onto the concrete floor. It was something completely out of character.
Erin hand shakes as she puts it into back into the warm pocket of her trousers. Holtzmann stares at her in disbelief as they walk past it.
She doesn't pick them up.
-
Holtzmann leans back in her chair, propping her legs up in the small work table to the roof. She grins slightly to herself when she sees the cactus socks on her legs.
Frank Sinatra's soothing voice softly played as she whistled along, feeling relaxed.
No calls from scared citizens about ghosts in their kitchens, no complains about radiation coming from a proton pack (mainly by Abby) that is making them think that Erin is a zebra, and no broken guns that shoot rays at the most unreasonable times.
  Holtzmann's hand brushed over the the pocket of her large trench coat. Her pale hand runs over the bulk of the hidden cigarette pack. The pack is surprisingly full, and the engineer had bought it a few weeks ago
It'll kill you.
  Your lungs will rot.
  Holtmann sighed and she took out the pack. She flipped it over in her hand and she heard the slow creak of the roof door opening.
  Erin walks in slowly. In her hands she held two packs of Pringles. Her cheeks looked slightly flushed from the long walk up the stairs, and her red hair looked frizzy from the warm Spring afternoon.
  Holtzmann smiles as she pulled up a chair beside her.
  Erin quickly eyed the small pack of cigarettes before placing a can of Pringles on her colleagues lap.
  They quietly munch on the salty snack, listening to the radio softly playing.
"Do you ever stop?"
  "Stop what?"
  "Thinking. Tinkering. Dreaming about new possibilities?"
   "Never."
  It was awkward and both of them hated it.
  "Can you keep this?" Holtzmann asked quickly. She shoved the pack towards her and looked away, not quite letting go of Erin's hand.
  Erin looked at the pack, enclosed in their interwoven hands, then up at her in confusion.
  "If I don't let you keep it I'll finish it before bedtime,"
  Erin grins and leaned back looking up at the stars, gently plucking the pack away from their hands.
  The crazy scientist leaned back also and she sighed.
  They listened to the gentle voice of Elvis for a few hours, speaking in hushed voices. Holtzmann slowly drifted asleep hand in hand with Erin.
-

a.n
I'll probably fix the ending. It sucks ahahah
Leave ur comments here. Be honest. I wanna know if im good at writing or not
Thanks for reading!