cigarette musings, soft midnights
whitaker likes the balcony at robby's place. he likes the view at night, the city sparkling beneath the velvet blue sky, the fort pitt bridge in his periphery. he likes standing at the railing with his eyes closed, feeling the bite of the wind, listening to cats squabbling on the street below. he likes watching his cigarette smoke curl up towards the few stars he can manage to make out.













