Following lines of smoke escaping your nostrils and into the thick air, I have become aware of everyone around me. I become fully conscious of the people who are in my company, and I like it. Smoke unfurls across the table into my face, and all I see are your eyes, two different colors and spellbinding. The glitter of the metal clung around your lip, the glare of your black hair, appear somewhere within the smoke cloud.
Your face draws closer, but not to my mouth. You retract your lips and bare your teeth. Pearly whites dig into my neck as I let out a yelp.
You laugh.
I smile.
Things are okay.
