LIL THE HEEL . lil & nil

The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon and showed no signs of rising because of the old high-rise buildings of Kazan. The sky, as if frozen in silent anticipation, was covered with an azure blanket, pierced by tiny lonely stars, only occasionally peeking out from behind the veil of gray clouds. You had just gone out for a smoke break, taking a step past the back entrance of the restaurant. The girl reached for a pack of cigarettes, but, damn it, there were none.

Looking up, she noticed the powerful figure of a red-haired man. A cigarette smoldered between two fingers of his tattooed hand, its smoke carried away by a light breath of cool autumn breeze. The skin where the filter was clamped had accumulated small calluses, evidence of frequent puffs.

“Would you like a cigarette?” he offered, getting ahead of her.