Wind buffeted Leto’s pale hair, tousling it. His eyelashes blinked once, twice, absentmindedly following the fumes trailing from between her fingers.
“Can I have one?”
She paused. “You never smoked. You needed your voice.”
Even if he didn’t need to sing anymore, she still didn’t like the notion of anything that would… taint him. She hesitated, her fingers wandering uncertain over her cigarette case. Did he mean it? “Really?”
“I’m just curious, that’s all. Whatever it is you do, I’m willing to try. The sort of thing.”
“…Easy to say.”
Leto watched the faint lights dance across her cheekbones, flickering and uncertain. Bright but never staying. Wishes he’d buried deep, hollow space between them, invisible but loud.
On impulse he leaned toward her and took her hand. She flinched slightly; but otherwise let him lower his head toward the pale cigarette and take a long drag. Smoke trailed out of his mouth, heavy and noxious. He crinkled his eyes in reflex, instinct rejecting the toxic flavor.
“…Bitter. And foul.”
+ comment