the half finished cigarette is ground into the brick in front of him, head tipped in the direction of the security camera that’s clung to the corner of the building, blue gaze anchored directly at the lens as if daring the person behind it to ring his name through the intercom. ( it’s a fifty-fifty shot, and maybe there’s some disappointment when he’s greeted with only silence. ) the smoke sitting at the base of his throat leaves him as a cough rather than an exhale, rubber front of his converse knocking free the hardcover textbook he’d used as a makeshift doorstop before slipping into the back end of the library again. “ sorry, ” he offered, although the apology begrudgingly falls flat with the absence of sincerity. “ what exactly was your idea for this thing again ? ” @ivcrylungs