/Just sneakin O U T\Damion&Dorian/For a S M O K E\

[Tsubasa]

A small smog of grey smoke blew out, and anyone who would stumble here would wonder why the man could do such sacriligious activies in a holy place. It was eerie, but it was day, so the creepy factor was dimmed down a bit. Damion inhaled another whiff as he took a drag, this time blowing out through his nostrils. Why was he smoking in the cementary? Well, the Jew liked this place, it was quite and out of the way. Also, he didn't feel the whole 'sacriligious' part as he wasn't Christian or Catholic or whatever Gentile religions these people had.
Chuckling, he leaned against a forgotten grave with only the name written on it. He always felt that the graves with only the name were kind of lonely to the person who had died. No mention on what kind of a person they were, if they had family, how long they had lived, it was something that Damion wished wouldn't happened to him.
Finished with the fag in his hand, he threw the butt down on the ground and stomped it out. He placed both hands on the back of the grave, lifting his head to look up at the big blue sky that surrounded him. It was so vast, so strange, and as the boy lifted his right hand up he wondered if one day he could grasp it. Slowly, he retracted it with a snicker, feeling foolish. Fumbling through his pocket, he pulled out the box of fags and matches. Taking a new cig out with two fingers, he placed the box back and then moved to the matches. Damion took a match and scraped it against the grave, lighting it, then quickly lit the fag as well.
He brought the disastrous thing to his lips, inhaling, and then pulled it away as he let out the smoke in circles. Ah, life sure was good.

[Yuki]

It would be typical for Dorian to not have a match at this time.

This would always happen, especially when he actually needed a cigarette. The majority of people he knew either didn’t smoke or weren’t around, so he was in trouble. And he did need it—Dante had managed to annoy him once more, but that was just so typical nowadays. The slightest thing would make Dante yell and curse, and Dorian barely even knew what was going on anymore. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, what would make his friend smile or yell. It was annoying to guess, and he just needed to get away for at least a while. At least he knew sweet nicotine would be there for him—she was the only one who could understand.

If he could reach her at least.

So Dorian had decided to take a stroll, hopefully find someone who had a match or something to light his damn cigarette. Something more depressing than a smoker was a smoker who couldn’t smoke, and even people who didn’t should feel sorry for the poor kid. His journey for fire had strangely reached the cemetery, making slight sense to him. Someone should be here, at least with a lighter, if not someone who knew where to get one. Almost no one went there, and if they did it wasn’t for any good reason. No one too important was buried there anyway, so no one was there to mourn. Luckily for him, he saw someone up ahead, and from what it looked like, he was smoking as well. He started walking up to the guy when he realized who it was—Damion. That damn Stud, probably one of the last people he wanted to see. But still… he had a cigarette which was lighted, which meant that he could light Dorian’s as well. Damn, why did it have to be him to be here? He was just gonna have to suck it up (literally) and ask for a light.

The Handsome Eye took the cigarette from his pocket and put it into his mouth, already tasting the sweet essence on his tongue. Very nonchalantly, he walked over to Damion, glancing up at him only slightly. “Do you have an extra light?” he asked, cigarette dangling off the corner. “Or can I at least light off yours?” Sure, they weren’t close, but was Damion actually gonna shoot him down a light?
Nah.

[Tsubasa]

Really, he was so enjoying his life-threatening activity, so why did it it have to be ruined?
Damion stayed in his leaning position against the slab of stone and nearly growled when he saw the Handsome Eye come into view. The Handsome Eyes, what a bunch of jokes. Those high and mighty, rich, obnoxious pretty boys that thought they owned the place. Those blokes really got on the Jew's last nerves, aside from one particular friend. He also disliked the Elites, but they weren't as bad.


Hm, maybe if he didn't move, the boy wouldn't notice him.

Now, the guy was just passing by, so Damion thought it would be all well and right, but then he just had to go and ask for a match? One of his matches? Ugh, how disgusting, for his favorite brand of matches to be soiled by the fag in that loser's dirty mouth.

Play along, Serange, just play along.

Turning to face the fellow student, the brunette gave a sparkling smile that could rival Edward in the sun, and let the grin reach his ears.

"Wahh? E'you, an 'an'some Eye, aren cha? Though' yeh lot wers peirfec' 'n all. Aint smokin gonna ruyain yer image?"

He chuckled, taking out the matchbox out of his pocket and twirling it around with two fingers. It was light and small enough to do so, the brand called 'lush', very popular in Cardiff. He didn't have many left, and certainly wouldn't go as low as asking that woman to send him some. Oh no, no he wouldn't.
Still twirling it, Damion whistled slighty before speaking again.

"Well, 'suppose we could gives it to yeh. Jus woul'nt wont ta haarm yeh health 'n all."

Even if he did happen to give it to the guy, by some magical happening chance, the Jew sure was going to make it hard.


(ooc) D: Ugh, terrible post.

[Yuki]

God damn, Dorian always ran into the wrong person at the wrong time.

He really, really didn't need this. All the poor boy asked for was a light, and now he was being denied of one? He didn't understand why. Whenever someone asked him for a light, or sometimes even a cigarette if he was in a good mood, he'd give it to them. Dorian always thought of that as a polite gesture, one of the few that he actually does and keeps up with. He figured that if you were gonna go ahead and feed your lungs toxins, you shouldn't do it alone. It was just a nice thing to do, and whenever he asked for a light, he usually got it.

Not this time.

Dorian rolled the cigarette in his mouth, nicotine teasing him with only a slight taste. Without a light, he could faintly recall that taste, but really couldn't smoke without the warm feeling of smoke floating down his lungs. "Come on, does it really look like I care? This one single cigarette won't kill me." He always hated that, people who thought that these precious sticks could kill you. Sure, they could--in maybe twenty or thirty years. They weren't an automatic killing machine, it took time for the magic to kick in.

Again, the cig rolled in the Handsome Eye's mouth, to the other side. Damn, already the slight flavor was leaving, he needed the light now or else he'd go insane. "Hey, all I'm asking for is a match. At least I'm not attempting to take a cigarette, right? I know how much these things cost, and compared to the match, it's pretty damn expensive. Besides, I'd think that you of all people would like to see me die from coughing, no?"
Persuasive Dorian is always persuasive. He really just hoped it was enough, he only wanted a damn cigarette.

[Tsubasa]

It was just too fun to mess with such bad tempered folk like him, the Cardiffian confided in himself. The twinge at the corner of his superficial smile curved even more, so much more that the grinch would be outdone. Giving a light laugh that ringed through the musty old cemetery, he thumbed the chipping paper box of matches, looking down with half-lidded eyes. Sliding the case open ever so slightly, an automatic motion that he had acquired over countless years of smoke invested lungs, Damion went to pick out a match.

His fingers barely touched the cherry colored tip of the wooden stick, before flinching his fingers back an inch. His dark eyes flickered towards the one in his company's, giving a teasing smirk, before finally picking out the match with his thumb and forefinger. Tilting his head to the side with an innocent-coated gaze, he reached out and handed the match to Dorian.

"Heer ya ah." A smile with a raised eyebrow accompanying it formed on his handsome features. "Jus' laek yuh wunted."

His eyes darkened in a second like a clouded sky, and the smile, without moving a muscle, looked something sinister. His aura was a menacing one, turning the air cold and creating a slight awkwardness. Damion tilted his head to the other side this time, though much slower.

"Why, why don yuh stay ahwahl. We does gut awful lonleh." The brunette even further darkened his eyes, so much that they could swallow you hole if you gazed too long. "Yuh wouldn wunna be a' rude, wouldja?"

There could be so many different meaning lying buried under the few words he had spoken, and none could wonder them pleasant. It was up the Handsome Eye to interpret them as he wished, depending on how he viewed himself in Damion's eyes.