“use a cool weapon so i can die in a cool way!” you joke, and his smile appears for a split second. “i do” his cheek is warm with fresh tears when you caress it, and it reminds you of the firsts you had together. he knows it’s not, he knows you better than anyone else, he knows this is how you cope. “you’ve gotta kill me now, don’t you?” you say, sadness flowing through your veins, albeit it sounding rather sarcastic. it’s been twelve years since you guys met each other, and over four years of marriage and you never knew about your husband’s real job. You still can’t believe how he hid it from you all this time, but then you think about how you never said a word to him either. ![]() “i quit after we got married ” you start, eyes slipping to the framed picture you have on your furnace, just across, in the living room, “i felt guilty having to hide it from you, so i quit completely.” the taste of the cigarette is now bittersweet and you toss it away, this time not with the intention of taking another one. You put out the cigarette on the marble counter and leave it tossed in the pile of ashes you created in front of you, ready to light another one. his eyes hardly manage to catch glimpse of your face without struggling to hold back tears. His chest hurts, his breathing is way too slow and his eyes are cloudy, so that he can barely see the shadow of your crouched figure sitting on the bar stool. he looks at you and wonders how he managed to hurt you this badly - or rather, how could he ever be able to hurt you? He looks at you and wonders how he managed to fuck up this badly. “i never knew you you smoked.” he tries to cut the tension, to no avail. the smoke from the cigarette you lit gets straight in his face, but he still doesn’t flinch or change his facial expression. ![]() The air in the kitchen is thick and grey.
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