As He Took a Drag
He took a drag, inhaling the sweet taste into his mouth. He was worried about what had just happened and was trying to figure it all out. He looked at her holding the pillow her eyes glazed over with that faraway look that told you “Gone out for a minute, leave a message”. The cigarette was already half over and the last one of the pack. He knew he’d have to buy more and probably, at least for a week, have a pack on-hand. The far away look made him wonder just what she was thinking about. It was different from the other times that he’d seen it, when she’d randomly just space out off into oblivion then come back five minutes later just bursting full. Never really did need to keep things interesting because she was a wild card unto herself. “Sun child?” he whispered over at her, turning to her, facing her, engaging her. The eyes remained unfocused and without any coherent thought.
She held the pillow, waiting for him. He took a drag. She said then “Put that thing out, it’s time for bed”. He grimaced looking at his cigarette “I’ve only got half left. I want to finish this before I get in there with you.”
“You’ll taste terrible after that.” He held out a pack of altoids and breath mints. “I’ll be minty-fresh.”
“Wanna bet on that?” He looked back out the window, just finishing a drag when the pillow hit him from behind.
“What was that for?” his cigarette having just made a bid for freedom. “You, in bed. NOW!” He couldn’t help but listen; she was always the boss after night fell. A small flick and out the window the near dead cigarette went, free. An altoid and many breath mints later, he was in there with her. The roughness of his hands conflicted greatly with the satin smoothness that he always found to be hers. She feels the warmth of his body joining over hers, heating the bed in a way nothing else can. His added presence acted as a gentle line that helped guide her into the bliss of sleep.
Things were uneasy tonight though; neither was able to be comfortable in the bed. Thoughts kept going back to the argument, the screaming. They were opposites. She was pale, flower white and he was earthy tan.
She nudged him in the stomach. “You absolutely stink. I told you no smoking before bed!”
“Excuse me if I’m so busy cooking to get it in after work.”
She thought “I thought you always just smoked in the car on the way back when you bothered at all.”
Provided I’m not getting all the groceries for dinner because someone missed some big ingredients for tonight’s dinner “When I can.”
“Still, try to kick it huh? It makes you smell terrible and its not always pleasant to wake up with that smell lingering around me.”
He lifted his head up and in a flash of minute white on white she gasped softly at the sudden sensation. She lips moved on their own, letting her real feeling about it come up and out. He let go and murmured his reply.
“I’m still not going to quit you know.”
A slug met him for that comment and she spun to face him.
“Then I’m going to do the one thing that could do it.”
He couldn’t move at all, she was on top and her current smile never promised much in the way of good things immediately...
***********************************
It's been a long time since I originally wrote the story. There was a good bit of filler in it. But somehow, a little work with a good bit of trimming thinned it a bit, dropping from ~800 to ~600! For any piece, a drop like that without jeopardizing the integrity of the piece with minimal rewriting is something. Also working on editing another piece of mine from about the same time. Just the main character has a hard-to spell first name, damn my research into Irish first name variations! Still, I remain the original writer so I still consider myself the worst judge of how the story works, I've got all the supplemental information inside my skull and it just works on its own. Let me know how it sounds.
She held the pillow, waiting for him. He took a drag. She said then “Put that thing out, it’s time for bed”. He grimaced looking at his cigarette “I’ve only got half left. I want to finish this before I get in there with you.”
“You’ll taste terrible after that.” He held out a pack of altoids and breath mints. “I’ll be minty-fresh.”
“Wanna bet on that?” He looked back out the window, just finishing a drag when the pillow hit him from behind.
“What was that for?” his cigarette having just made a bid for freedom. “You, in bed. NOW!” He couldn’t help but listen; she was always the boss after night fell. A small flick and out the window the near dead cigarette went, free. An altoid and many breath mints later, he was in there with her. The roughness of his hands conflicted greatly with the satin smoothness that he always found to be hers. She feels the warmth of his body joining over hers, heating the bed in a way nothing else can. His added presence acted as a gentle line that helped guide her into the bliss of sleep.
Things were uneasy tonight though; neither was able to be comfortable in the bed. Thoughts kept going back to the argument, the screaming. They were opposites. She was pale, flower white and he was earthy tan.
She nudged him in the stomach. “You absolutely stink. I told you no smoking before bed!”
“Excuse me if I’m so busy cooking to get it in after work.”
She thought “I thought you always just smoked in the car on the way back when you bothered at all.”
Provided I’m not getting all the groceries for dinner because someone missed some big ingredients for tonight’s dinner “When I can.”
“Still, try to kick it huh? It makes you smell terrible and its not always pleasant to wake up with that smell lingering around me.”
He lifted his head up and in a flash of minute white on white she gasped softly at the sudden sensation. She lips moved on their own, letting her real feeling about it come up and out. He let go and murmured his reply.
“I’m still not going to quit you know.”
A slug met him for that comment and she spun to face him.
“Then I’m going to do the one thing that could do it.”
He couldn’t move at all, she was on top and her current smile never promised much in the way of good things immediately...
***********************************
It's been a long time since I originally wrote the story. There was a good bit of filler in it. But somehow, a little work with a good bit of trimming thinned it a bit, dropping from ~800 to ~600! For any piece, a drop like that without jeopardizing the integrity of the piece with minimal rewriting is something. Also working on editing another piece of mine from about the same time. Just the main character has a hard-to spell first name, damn my research into Irish first name variations! Still, I remain the original writer so I still consider myself the worst judge of how the story works, I've got all the supplemental information inside my skull and it just works on its own. Let me know how it sounds.