From here.
Christophe looked up from where he’d been lighting his cigarette, expression bored and uncaring. He waved the flame off the match he’d been using and tossed it aside as inhaled a powerful drag off the cancer stick. Grasping it between two fingers, he pulled the cigarette from his mouth to release a billowing cloud of smoke.
“I do absolutely nozhing to ‘just be edgy,’ fils de pute. Feegure eet out for yourself.” He took another drag, flipping the bird in the vague direction of the ghost Damien had been eyeing. “Een case you failed to notice, I am one paranoid son of a beetch.”
@worldsinferno













