Bad Habits

8

“Yer favorite place in da house, wat is it?”

I wipe my silent tear quickly away before turning to see him standing against the house with one foot up against it while he lights a cigarette. I watch as he inhales deeply holding it in for longer than a second, then exhaling creating small circles with the smoke.

“What?” I finally manage.

He studies my face for a few seconds before speaking, “Yeh said da kitchen was yer second favorite room in da house..wats yer first?”

HIs question catches me off guard. Who cares about that really? 

“The balcony just outside of my room.” I say looking up at the bottom deck of it.

“Les go den.” He says suddenly before putting the cigarette out against his shoe and putting the bud into his pocket.

He takes off back inside of the house into the direction of the staircase. He’s not really going to my room is he? I take off after him ignoring all of the chatter coming from the living area of the house. He takes two steps at a time quickly, making it hard for me to keep up.

“What are you doing?” I say to him when he reaches the double doors to my room.

He opens one side pushing it open and walking right in. He soon searches freely observing every inch of it. He runs his hand along the stone on the far left side of my room. Watching his movements are dizzying to me.

“You can’t just come into my room.” I finally say slightly annoyed by it.

“..but I did, now c’mon.” He says walking out to the balcony.

I sigh but nonetheless follow. His arms are spread out against the railing as he looks up into the now star filled sky. The moonshine soon lights up against his pale face making his skin look silky and beautiful.

“I can see why yeh would choose dis ta beh yer favorite.” He says in a low voice.

I watch his eyes sparkle as he continues to look up at the night sky. They are the shade of the bluest gem. They’re magical. I bite my lip as I struggle with how hectic my emotions are around him. It’s not something I am used to. Usually I have more control over them. I try to tell myself he caught me at a sentimental time but for some reason that’s hard to believe for it to be the reason of not just simply being him.

He reaches into his pocket pulling out the other half of his cigarette and quickly lighting it. I see him visibly relax after inhaling the nicotine once more. I've never been one to favor it, but I'm used to seeing my brother do it. It usually disgusts me honestly, the smell of it being too strong and unpleasing but he has a way of making it look flawless. 

“You know..smoking is bad for you.” I say with the least amount of emotion within my voice. 

“Ya, well so is crossin da road on a curve..” he says turning to look me in the eye.

Being reminded of the incident boils my blood all over again. “Well who the hell drives like a maniac on a curve?” I shoot back.

He slowly pulls the cigarette from his lips stepping toward me the way a lion would approach its prey. I back up into the house with my body pressed against the cool stone. His face is inches from mine as he releases the intoxicating annoying scent of the nicotine smoke inside of his mouth leaving my vision somewhat blurry.

“If I were drivin like a maniac yeh wouldn’t beh alive right now.” I watch as his eyes darken to a deep sapphire color before he steps through the sliding door leading back into my room.