“Maybe being dead is better than being alive.”
He was silent a moment. Then, “Maybe.”
I straightened off the wall, pulling the cigarette down to my side, not giving a flying rat’s ass that ash was probably getting all over the place. It wasn’t like we were at the Hilton.
“What did you just say?” I challenged. It was one thing for me to be morbid but a whole other for him.
“I agreed with you.”
“Don’t,” I snapped.
“When I kiss you, I taste cigarettes.”
“Don’t like it, don’t kiss me.”
“I do like it. More than any other kiss I’ve ever had.”
I stiffened again. “How many people you been kissing?” How dare he lie there naked and talk about other dudes?
“Just a few.”
“I’ll need names.” I decided, taking another drag.
“Did they make an appointment in hell too?”
“No. They made an appointment with my fist.”
A light giggle swirled through the air. It lit up my nervous system and nearly blinded me completely.
“Are you jealous?” he asked.
“No.”
We fell into silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“I wonder what you taste like underneath the cigarette,” he said. “Right now, you kinda taste like death, and even though you think you were born to die… I think it’s something else.”
I made a sound. “Like what?”
“Can I see the tattoo on your back?”
Without a word, I put my back to him, finishing off the cigarette and then snuffing out the butt on the windowsill.
The room was poorly lit, and I knew I stood on the edge of shadows and it would likely be hard to see. I didn’t move closer to the light. I didn’t move at all.
The blankets rustled, and his bare feet hit the floor. The pulse in my neck doubled in pace, and suddenly, I wanted to light another cigarette.
He thinks I taste like death. Death should be nowhere near him.
Instead of reaching for a match, I curled my hands into fists and kept my eyes to the window. He was small and quiet, but I felt him walk across the room. I wanted to tell him to get back in bed, but the words evaporated in my throat.
Instead, my heart continued to pound as he crept closer, his stare making my skin feel hot. My head tilted when I heard my cell drag across the tabletop, and the flashlight illuminated seconds later.
Pretty rude that he helped himself to my phone.
I didn’t tell him to put it down.
Instead, I stood there bathed in the beam of light, muscles rippling under the heavy weight of his eyes. The silence encapsulating the room suddenly seemed loud, and I fought the urge to fidget. Seriously, I’d faced guns with a lot less fucks than this.
