The waft

“Tell me more about you” he said.

“Like what?” she asked, adjusting the sheet around her body.

“Like…are you the kind of woman who….” his voice trails off as he sees her reaching for a cigarette, kept on the night stand next to her bed.

“The kind of woman who…what?”

“The kind who smokes after sex?” he finishes.

“I’m the kind who smokes whenever. And the kind who’ll be whatever you want me to be, as long as you’re not a nutcase!” she smiles while taking a drag.

His eyes rest on her face for a minute, taking into account every little detail of that irresistible face and deadly smile.

“In that case how about you give me half of that death wish you’re puffing away?” he asks.

She never touched a cigarette after that day.

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