the smoke burned his throat, but there was no better feeling than this. the japanese had felt sick about himself, the world around him along with his thoughts haunting him even when awake–the male grew tired about it–so there was one way that he could run away from them. it was darkness after darkness, regret filling his mind as he placed the money on the other’s hand–giving a frown as he sat down-subsequently lightning up the object on hand. there was a pause, eyeing to the latter before moving obsidian tresses away–inhaling && exhaling–smiled formed on his dry lips.