I watched him as he took a long drag on the cigarette and exhaled slowly. I watched him lift his other hand and run his long, spidery fingers through his dark, curly hair as I fought the urge to wave the cloud of smoke away from my face.
"I thought you quit..." I said.
"Extenuating circumstances," he said, exhaling deeply again, keeping his eyes fixed away from my face.
"I'm sorry," I blurted. I didn't what to say.
He shrugged.
I felt so bad. He looked so broken. I tried to look away from him. I blinked my eyes rapidly. I didn't want him to notice my tears.
"I thought you had left," he said slowly.
"I did," I said quickly.
"And yet, here you are..." he said inhaling another long puff, all the time looking away from my face.
"Extenuating circumstances," I mumbled.
He let out a short, rasping laugh. I didn't find it funny. Not one bit.
"You should leave," he said matter-of-factly, tossing the embers from the filtered tip carelessly on the side of the floor.
I wanted to say something, but I just nodded instead. My eyes swept the room one last time and I located my coat. I bundled it in my arms and reached to turn the doorknob.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. I could feel his gaze on me, for the first time that evening, burning into my back.
I didn't want to turn back and look at him again. So I just shook my my head and opened the door.
I was greeted by the howl of the wind. I pulled my coat over my shoulders. I knew any moment now, the rain would come beating down on me. And I didn't even have an umbrella. I turned to shut the door, trying to be careful to avoid his gaze. He was still sitting, on the sofa, in the middle of the room. His thin, long fingers still clutching the cigarette. But he wasn't smoking it any more.
"Goodbye," I muttered more to myself than to him.
"Come back tomorrow," he called out suddenly.
I had almost shut the door, but I opened it with more force than I needed to apply.
"What?"
"I said, 'come back tomorrow'," he said in a bored voice, staring at the tip of the cigarette as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"What?" I repeated, "Why? No!"
"Please?" I found it strange, coming from him. He never said 'please'.
"No," I repeated firmly, though not as firmly as I wanted to. My lips were trembling and my voice was shaking.
"As you wish," he sighed, picking up the cigarette and resuming his inhaling.
I gulped. "Okay," I breathed. Then I swung the door open and set foot outside. The rain had already started lashing down. I slammed the door shut and I broke into a run.
"I thought you quit..." I said.
"Extenuating circumstances," he said, exhaling deeply again, keeping his eyes fixed away from my face.
"I'm sorry," I blurted. I didn't what to say.
He shrugged.
I felt so bad. He looked so broken. I tried to look away from him. I blinked my eyes rapidly. I didn't want him to notice my tears.
"I thought you had left," he said slowly.
"I did," I said quickly.
"And yet, here you are..." he said inhaling another long puff, all the time looking away from my face.
"Extenuating circumstances," I mumbled.
He let out a short, rasping laugh. I didn't find it funny. Not one bit.
"You should leave," he said matter-of-factly, tossing the embers from the filtered tip carelessly on the side of the floor.
I wanted to say something, but I just nodded instead. My eyes swept the room one last time and I located my coat. I bundled it in my arms and reached to turn the doorknob.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. I could feel his gaze on me, for the first time that evening, burning into my back.
I didn't want to turn back and look at him again. So I just shook my my head and opened the door.
I was greeted by the howl of the wind. I pulled my coat over my shoulders. I knew any moment now, the rain would come beating down on me. And I didn't even have an umbrella. I turned to shut the door, trying to be careful to avoid his gaze. He was still sitting, on the sofa, in the middle of the room. His thin, long fingers still clutching the cigarette. But he wasn't smoking it any more.
"Goodbye," I muttered more to myself than to him.
"Come back tomorrow," he called out suddenly.
I had almost shut the door, but I opened it with more force than I needed to apply.
"What?"
"I said, 'come back tomorrow'," he said in a bored voice, staring at the tip of the cigarette as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"What?" I repeated, "Why? No!"
"Please?" I found it strange, coming from him. He never said 'please'.
"No," I repeated firmly, though not as firmly as I wanted to. My lips were trembling and my voice was shaking.
"As you wish," he sighed, picking up the cigarette and resuming his inhaling.
I gulped. "Okay," I breathed. Then I swung the door open and set foot outside. The rain had already started lashing down. I slammed the door shut and I broke into a run.
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