a bar— that’s where you met him. he had a cigarette with his number on it, the ash falling onto the bar counter. you had been stealing glances at him all night. you couldn’t help it. and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. at some point he had looked over to you, handed you the cigarette.

“do you want it?”

you knew it was wrong to just take a random cigarette from some guy you didn’t even know, but you kept it. saved it, waited, then called it. that’s what led to this arrangement with him; and every time he’d come over, you could taste the liquor on his lips when he’d kiss you, and you knew he was dangerous. you tried to be strong but by now you were so beyond it, so far gone, you’d practically lost it. despite his stoic and straightforward exterior, you always saw this fire in his eyes—he’s smart, sweet, honest, and maybe you like him too much. more than you should. but you just can’t resist him.