Wooden door slammed shut when dabi leaned back against it,his scarred hands, as if chronicling all the failures of life,reached for a white crumpled wrapped in a red pack of cigarettes, taking out one cancer stick filled with cheap nicotine and other poison all the way to the filter.The smoke was timidly streaming,reaching for the suspended ceiling, settling near it and in the lungs with a collection of grayish clouds.His intense gaze rested on your outlines in the light of the suspended sun.

Dabi didn't care how much you had before him and how much you would have,how right or wrong it was.Everything was so abrupt and impulsive when you met by chance,although the nature of your relationship was distributed by something more than throwing dice in the false hope that something worthwhile would fall out that would make up for all debts.He doesn't want to heal you when no one wants to,fill a through hole in the heart when he can't do it for himself,offering only what he can give, two incomplete people can never become whole just by absorbing each other until only a shadow, a fragment of the past remains on the floor.

Another puff,the nicotine was carried through the blood of the temporarily non-stop pumping heart.Sound of a foot hitting the floor instead of the pendulum of a clock when turquoise irises slide over you again,studying or looking for something,as if the ability to see has not yet been buried by clouds of poisonous smoke.Fabric gently rolled down when you started to take off your T-shirt, exposing the deceptively still living flesh,he wanted to trace the line of your spin, maybe he can feel the outlines of the wings there which are inaccessible to his gaze,but even if he had found them,he would have torn them out himself,want to touch and ruin.You are simple as paradise in this whole world that looks like hell,although growing up in agony,absolute bliss will seem something insufficient,alien,leaving only dissatisfaction with a sticky trail of shimmering pearls on the skin of your thighs.