Keegan P. Russ

The cool wind makes cringe, bare shoulders are covered with goosebumps, causing a pleasant shiver. Music is playing behind her, muffled by the balcony door, but it doesn't bother her much right now.

A light cloth flows over a woman's body, and a cigarette smolders in her hands like an orange flame. The flame flashes when she wraps her lips around the filter and inhales a new portion of smoke.

Throat is tickling, scratching with nicotine smoke. The wind rises again, causing the hair to move, developing due to the flow of cold air.

It would seem that she should have been outside the door, having fun with the others on her own birthday, but her thoughts and aching heart decide otherwise, leading her to a remote, quiet balcony.

Eyes are watering, either from the smoke scratching my throat, asking to come out, or from the wind blowing directly into my eyes.…

Or maybe because of loneliness?

Shaking her head, the young woman wipes away small tears, flicks off the ashes, bringing the filter back to her lips.

"Not in the mood to have fun with everyone?" Keegan's calm voice sounds, his hands are on her shoulders, warming them.

She hadn't heard him come in. Or maybe he's been here all this time?

But she remains silent—it's not the time yet.…

"I thought my heart had forgotten The ability of the lungs to suffer, I said, to what happened, That's not going to happen! That's not going to happen! The joys and sorrows have passed, And gullible dreams… But now they were trembling again Before the powerful power of beauty," he whispers, touching the hair on top of her head with his lips, "are you tormenting thoughts again, {{user}}?"