A Night Out

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I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror once more after wiping my newly washed face as I brushed through my hair with my fingers. I scowled when I noticed a small red mark forming on my chin, proving that a nasty zit was about to make its way. I flicked at it with my finger and cursed it before I turned on my heel to exit.

After a short drive from the art gallery, Mitchell and I checked into the hotel. It was once again a hotel owned by Mitchell's dad and we were staying in the presidential suite. I was in awe when I looked at the suite, it was massive, elegant, and defined luxury. This suite had three bedrooms, an open plan living room with a dining room, a fully equipped bar, four bathrooms, a kitchenette, and the best part was the three large windows which spread out from the living room to the bar and had a view of the entire city; it was beautiful.

I walked out of my bedroom and down the long staircase, I walked pass the kitchenette and when I reached the living room I looked at Mitchell sitting on one of the couches, he had his one leg up on his opposite thigh, his one hand held a glass of whiskey on the armrest of the couch and the other hand had a lit cigarette in it.

I didn't take note of the cigarette but then I looked again and watched him take a puff as he mindlessly looked out the window. I had no idea Mitchell smoked, in my time with him I never saw even a pack of cigarettes on him, let alone smell that awful tobacco scent.

My eyes widened when I walked closer and he was too lost in his thoughts -looking out at the night sky and the view of the lit-up city below, to notice me.

"You smoke?!" I exclaimed.

Mitchell was startled, he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth immediately and after puffing out the smoke, he said to me with a scowl, "What is wrong with you woman?"

I went to sit on the seat next to his, tucking my one leg under the other I answered, "Many things but the point is, since when do you smoke?"

He gave me a look, "Why are you making a big deal about this?"

"Uh, because I had no idea a big mamma's boy like you smoked," I answered.

A thought then occurred to me, I looked at him with scrutiny. "Wait a minute, does your mother even know that you smoke?"

"Hell no," He answered, "And neither will she ever, she's a health freak so she'll kill me if she finds out."

I looked at him with a grin and when he looked at me, I raised my brows at him twice.

"What?" He asked.

I shifted closer and bumped his shoulder with mine, "Look at you being a rebel."

He sighed before taking a sip of his drink, "Mila, don't you have something better to do rather than annoy me?"

The smell of his lit cigarette welcomed me, and I could feel my chest tighten a little, it was a long time since I was around one.

Ignoring what he just said I, instead asked, "So since when have you been smoking?"

He shrugged as he took another puff. He exhaled and even though I was a medical student and knew how injurious to the health cigarettes were, I couldn't hide the college girl in me and think that he looked pretty damn hot when he exhaled smoke like that.

"I don't know, since I was nineteen, I think." He answered.

"What made you start and why is this the first time I'm seeing you smoking?" I asked.

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