"Smoking kills but so does life, which death has a sweeter taste on the tongue?"
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When an avid smoker and an overly considerate girl worlds collide, someone is bound to get burned.
Published (Feb, 2019)
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I made the final marking with the highlighter in my fingertips, holding the paper up to the sky so I could get a clear view of my masterpiece.
It was the day after our talk in the parking lot, just a few hours had elapsed since our arrangement and there seemed to be some kind of tension in the room nobody was talking about.
Even if I didn't want to admit it to myself, it was becoming aggravatingly obvious that I was starting to develop some kind of feelings towards Harry.
Now I wasn't quite sure what any of this meant, And I wasn't even certain if this was a crush, but what I did know was that I found myself in his presence a lot more often, and it didn't take much for me to dislike something that could possibly cause or inflict any pain on him. Especially in his current state.
My mind was a maze as I dropped the paper from above me, putting it on my lap in obvious satisfaction. Everything that I was curious about was written down and I could finally give it to Harry.
He watched in what I assumed to be anticipation as I then took a pen out, ensuring that all other stationery tools were neatly aligned, and stretched my arms out, the paper and pen his for the taking.
An expression that said "What the hell is this?" came over his features, and I sighed, rolling my eyes at his inability to stop having so many doubts.
"Just read it, will you," I muttered.
After another attempt to push the sheet closer to him, he finally took it with a sigh of his own, and the dissatisfaction was clearly written out on his features.
He wasted no time in scanning the list, giving me a sour expression almost immediately.
"This is so cliché," he coughed. "What's my favourite movie? What's my favourite book? What do I want to do more than anything the world?"
He handed the paper back to me before a laugh fell from his lips.
"What is this Violet," he shook his head, completely rejecting my attempts at trying to understand him better.
"This is serious," I chastised him. "I know nothing about you."
We were seated on the sofa of his log cabin.
After a long speech given to me by my parents in which they spoke of me shirking my responsibilities and constantly ignoring them whenever they asked about what was going on in my life, I finally caved and told them......well, everything. They weren't completely happy, but I guess they weren't mad either, because they encouraged me to spend more time with Harry. It had been about 15 minutes since we arrived and 14 of that was me, putting pretty colors on a blank piece of paper and him watching in silence. My phone even managed to vibrate about four times since we had arrived, but my attention was obviously elsewhere.
"You know lots about me," he frowned. "Like for instance you know that my mom..
"Is a registered nurse who's talents have constantly gone to waste since she is working in an environment that she doesn't want to be in." I finished before he could get distracted. "Yes Harry, I probably could write a book about your parents, but I don't know anything about you personally."
