Smoke
It (does)n’t happen - intermediate -
Minho took another drag from his cigarette, having it grown easier to do by now, but that also meant the addiction was creeping in too. He still didn’t do it that often, but if he had a chance out of sight of people he really knew, he would bum one off some kind person.
Minho happened to be out on another awkward date with a girl he was sure he wouldn’t be seeing again after tonight. It was him showing he could move forward and do better like he said he would. He was trying. He was working on dating again.
This date also happened to be a smoker – a secret one, she had made clear with her age after all. Minho kept his distance, as did she, clearly both not relaxed this night. Obviously this wasn’t going to be a working-out relationship.
Minho blew smoke out again, matching the girl’s calm breath. She shifted in her seat where they sat hidden away in a small park, crossing her thin legs the opposite way. She was cold in this dropping temperature, Minho noted a little late. He should offer his jacket or something, right?
Minho wrapped his free arm around himself tighter, unable to even do something as simple and kind as that anymore.
He figured he should at least say something more, but his lips kept closing at the thought, mouth painfully dry. He cringed, upset with himself. This is him really trying? Minho tipped his cigarette in a gentle shake off again, trying to smile at least. “Thanks again, for this.”
She smiled genuinely, tucking long hair behind her ear with a cute glance at Minho. “No problem.” She nodded and moved her cigarette back to her pretty lips.
Minho admired the young lady’s beauty a moment before turning back to watch cars and people passing by the busy streets in the late evening, just beyond the park’s thick bushes. He tilted his head upward, and ran fingers through long hair, breathing out more clouds of smoke into the cool night.
Soon they would part ways.
Minho would try to forget another failed relationship. Not even a relationship at this point. Just an awful excuse for a blind date from a soccer teammate genuinely trying to help him out.
Dating was far too difficult now. How did he ever do it before? He didn’t remember it being so hard.
A cigarette, somehow, dulled the pain and humiliation. Numbed the expectation of himself – what he should be and used to be.
If only for a little while.
Even though he knew there wouldn’t be a callback from either side, Minho gave a kiss when she leaned in, implying she wanted one before leaving the park to part ways for home. He kissed Jinki before, even girls in fact, so it’s not that hard – shouldn’t be.
Still, it was.
It’s so hard and Minho didn’t understand why, not when he could do it with a boy – not when he could like it with a boy.
It made it worse. It’s not right. It’s backwards.
Minho clumsily kissed the girl, partly relaxed by the taste of cigarettes and the rush of a kiss, but nerves quickly got the better of him, ending with Minho biting his date’s tongue without meaning to at all. She yelped and stepped back, hand reaching to cover . Minho stared wide-eyed, embarrassed.
There would definitely be no call back.
Too bad, Minho would miss the free cigarettes.
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I'm working on getting this part of the story done and move on to the next, so bear with me, okay? ;;
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