The butt of the cigarette is locked in his mouth, only escaping when he exhales and watches the smoke escape from his own body. It dissipates, nicotine and all, into the thin, dry air around him. It hangs loosely in the corner of his mouth, sticking out like a striking fang. He's grown attached to it, to the point where he's always seen with the cancer stick wavering as he talks about the latest updates about the weather, or the new hit song that's "just a repetition of every other hit single."

Tonight, he relaxes in silence. A thin frame leaning against the glass of his balcony, gazing at the desolate streets below. Silence—he shuts his eyes and basks into his own thoughts.

The door behind him churns loudly and he doesn't bother to wince. Seto senses his presence, the captivated blond that never seemed to leave him alone. He takes the cigarette between two fingers and exhales, watching the smoke drift up into the air and disappear as if magic. He wishes to be like the cigarette smoke—no matter how hard you'd squint, you'll never be able to catch sight of him again.

"You look splendid," Brice compliments whilst leaning against the doorframe. "I honestly could just draw you."

Seto shakes his head, a common disapproval, "You can't seem to understand how to leave."

He feels Brice's hands slither around his waist, gripping him into a hug from behind. Seto tenses for a brief moment, then adjusts, exhaling softly while extinguishing the flame to his cigarette. He twirls the stick around his fingers. "You're toxic to everyone around you," he murmurs softly.

"I know," Brice's voice is depleted.

"You're toxic to me."

"...I know."

Silence. Seto glances upwards and is greeted with a solemn Brice. His eyes are peering at the streets below, much like the brunet had once done before he was interrupted. Their eyes lock; Seto looms away and manages to pry himself out of the other's grasp. He crosses his arms, cold. "Thought you had a plane to catch."

"Thought you had a bitch to fuck."

Seto rolls his eyes, a negative habit to say the least, "Just leave, you're wasting my time."

"I think you're happy to see me."

"I could give less than two shits," he lied. Seto was overjoyed to see him again.

Their relationship had been shaky from the start; arguments are explosive like those of an active volcano. They're like oil and water, never being able to truly cooperate as one. Yet, there they were, standing above Fremont Street under the silver strip of moonlight—a soothing autumn it has been. Brice bites his lower lip, "I still love you, y'know."

"It's better if you don't," Seto argues, voice stricken and whiny. "It's better if you leave."

"Don't you want me to stay?" He's looking for some kind of response. The walls he's torn down just to reach the outside leaves him solaced, deprived from affection. He just needs someone to pick up the pieces, anyone.

Seto lights up another drag, signaling the end to their conversation. He sticks it into his mouth and says no more as he treads inside back into the apartment. Brice shuffles after him, grabbing his wrist. The shorter of the two stares lasers into his skull, an anguished expression planted on, what usually is, a stoic demeanor. He has the audacity to take out the cigarette from his lips, then replace it with his own. Seto doesn't budge, he stays there, locked in place as if they were teenagers again. He shuts his eyes, melting.

The lack of oxygen causes Seto to pull away first, pupils dilated and eyes wide. Brice sticks the cigarette into his own mouth, smirking cockily as if he had won. Back in the past, Seto would be cherry red, covering his face all flustered and embarrassed, yet secretly loving it. His face is tickled pink, a blank spaced smile spread thinly on his lips. Brice notices, like the expertise he is, and smiles, too.

"This isn't right," Seto shakes his head, returning back to reality.

"All's fair in love and war," Brice concludes, placing the cigarette between two fingers and exhaling the smoke in Seto's face. He coughs, closing his eyes and swatting the smoke away. When he opens them, Brice's gone. He hears the door slam shut behind him.

+

you can probably tell by now that i'm losing interest in the mcyt fandom but i'll probably fall back into it like i always do ;;

hopefully.