~Chapter 36~
"So basically," Aria began, dragging on her cigarette, the ember glowing bright red in the dim light of the alley.
She puffed out a stream of smoke as she continued, her voice asured and thoughtful.
"You an, you were kidnapped, held captive, and forced into slavery before you finally managed to escape," she summarized, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied .
We sat in silence for a mont, enveloped by the stillness of the night. The only sounds were the distant hum of the city, a constant, soothing drone that vibrated through every cell in my body; the soft crackle of Aria’s cigarette, and the light conversations from the other people present, their murmurs and laughter carrying on the breeze.
They didn’t pay us a glance nor did they even try listening or adding to our conversation. They all minded their business, leaving us to our private mont.
I nodded slowly, my eyes fixed on my bare feet. My toes curled inward, trying to escape the cold chill that seeped up from the ground, a futile attempt to find warmth in the chilly night air.
So how, Aria had asked what I was doing here and I didn’t know how my damned mouth began to blab about my situation.
It was as if the words were eagerly waiting for that question and they poured out of their own accord.
Mix of emotions was what I was feeling right now: relief, vulnerability and anxiety. Relieved that I’d finally shared my story, but also vulnerable, knowing that Aria now knew my secrets and she’s a stranger.
A total stranger, I just t and I was blabbing my life history to her. what the hell has co over .
"So where are you going to go from here?" she asked, her voice piercing the silence that was about to settle.
I looked back at her, thinking and searching for an answer that didn’t exist. I had nowhere to go, no job, no money, and definitely no family waiting for . I was alone, abandoned, and adrift in a vast, uncaring world.
Aria’s eyes looked at , waiting for my response. When she saw I had none, she sighed, exhaling a string of smoke that curled upward, disappearing into the night wind.
"So you have nowhere to go, damn," she muttered, clicking her tongue in what I don’t know, was it disappointnt or pity. Anything it was, I didn’t like that expression. It made feel weak, vulnerable, and helpless.
"I...I...it’s not like I don’t know where to go," I stamred, the words tumbling out of my mouth like the clumsy and awkward human I was.
I struggled to find the right words, the ones that would convince Aria that I was fine, that I had a plan, that I wasn’t just a lost, pitiful soul wandering the streets. But the words wouldn’t co, and I was left sitting there, feeling like a fool.
Aria scoffed but her eyes held amusent as she brought her cigarette closer to and I recoiled, moving back as the smoke wafted out, stinging my eyes.
Looking at her confused at the suddenly closeness, I wondered what she was on about. "What?" I whispered to her as she gazed at in the eyes.
My voice was barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat as I stamred out. "What are you doing." This was starting to get uncomfortable.
She scoffed again, a husky sound that sent a thrill through . Leaning back in her seat, she stretched out her hand, the cigarette still clutched between her fingers.
"You need this right now," She began, wiggling the cigarette in front of . "Smoke what’s bothering you away." She side-eyed , a sly and knowing glint in her eye.
Unsure of what to make of Aria’s offer. Part of was tempted, tempted to take the cigarette, to inhale the smoke, to let the nicotine coursing through my veins dull the pain, the fear, the uncertainty.
But another part of was wary, wary of Aria’s motives, wary of getting too close, too quickly.
Because, why? Why was she giving a cigarette when she was the one who had stopped Frank from forcing one into my mouth just a little while ago?
Images of Frank’s aggressive behavior still lingered, making Aria’s offer seem contradictory.
Nonetheless, I respectfully declined, trying to sound firm but polite. "I’m sorry, but I don’t smoke." Aria’s expression changed to approval, spreading across her face.
"Cool, that’s good. Cigarettes are addictive, and a pretty girl like you shouldn’t get yourself into this. BUT" Her eyes sparkled with a knowing glint as she paused, looking at and bringing her cigarette back to her lips to inhale.
"But, that doesn’t an you shouldn’t smoke, when your head is full of worries." She finished. Exhaling out the stream of smoke that curled upwards, giving a reason to smoke the cigarette that she is leaning towards again.
Looking at her hand, I sighed, frowning as the cigarette called towards , beckoning , tempting to take it.
It was telling to take it and everything would be alright. The smoke seed to whisper sweet nothings, promising to calm my racing thoughts, to soothe my frazzled nerves.
I knew it was wrong, I had never even tried smoking before, but there’s a first ti for everything. And so, with much trepidation, I reached out and took the cigarette from her hand.
Shakeningly, I brought the cigarette towards my trembling lips, the filter tip tickling my skin. I inhaled, the smoke rushing into my lungs.
The mont the smoke passed through my lips, I coughed out hard, my body rebelling against the intrusion. I couldn’t hold in the bad taste and sll, the acrid flavor burning my tongue and the back of my throat.
The smoke seared my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I felt like I was suffocating, my airways constricting in protest.
How can people smoke this stuff? I wondered, my mind reeling in shock. Was this what Mr. Salvatore liked? Torturing himself with this killing tool?
What the fuck? I ntally punched my stupid brain, furious at myself for thinking about him. How the hell did his na, his face, his presence keep creeping into my thoughts?
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