The light from the store hits their backs like a halo.
The rain's light; barely strong enough to tap out it's melody, a faint drizzle more than anything. It's relaxing, the sound of it. Edward almost feels like falling asleep.
The smoke doesn't help. The smell of it is comforting, familiar. If it weren't for the itch beneath his skin, he might actually doze off, right here, leaning against Daniel's flower store like a delinquent.
Daniel offers him a cigarette.
His smile is curled at one corner, this amused thing Edward wants to press his fingers to. It's almost familiar; makes him think of summer days, Daniel goading him out into the river, their trousers up to their knees, the sun hot. Even then, it's still not quite right. Still not his' Daniel's smile.
Edward takes the cigarette, and holds the nicotine till his lung ache.
Daniel smokes like he's done it before. Like he's done it more than once, twice. He's relaxed about it, sloped shoulders, easy hands. He's a pretty picture, soaked in artificial light, a star burning in the night.
He picks his words carefully.
"You don't seem like a smoker."
Daniel blinks. Looks at him, pretty face, pretty eyes- he looks so different, and sometimes it still hits Edward like it's a fresh thing. Like he's waking up in the backroom again, a ghost standing over him, asking him for his name like they weren't closer than anything.
"Well," Daniel smiles. Looks at his cigarette, expression almost mocking. "I'm not really. Just a stupid habit I gave myself."
Edward wants to pry. He wants to so badly, to peel Daniel's chest open and relearn every inch of his friend, but he can't.
The smoke makes his lungs ache.
"It was way back when," Daniel says, slow and easy, like he's not giving up parts of himself. "After, you know?"
He throws Edward a smile. A side ways, quick thing, like they're sharing a joke, something just between them.
"Thought it'd, I don't know- make me feel something?"
Edward wants to touch him.
Wants to so, so badly it makes his teeth ache, but he billows out smoke, and doesn't.
"It didn't, of course," Daniel laughs. It's not bitter, it's not amused- it's not anything, really, and Edward's turned toward him, is looking at Daniel's face, and the smile doesn't fit there, on his lips.
"Did feel something when I burnt myself, though," he says, and that's amused- he stretches out his palm, left hand, and there's a burn mark at the corner between palm and thumb, at that meaty part that'd hurt something fierce.
Edward drops his cigarette. Drops most of everything, really, and turns into Daniel, ignores how bad of an idea this fucking is, and touches his palms to Daniel's cheeks.
Cradles his face, and aches so bad.
"You don't gotta pretend around me, okay?"
He wants to hurl. Wants to rip himself open and tuck Daniel away in his chest, where he can keep him safe and close, and it's not something he can do, not even close, but-
"You don't gotta force a smile when you ain't feeling it. You don't gotta do nothing but be yourself, okay?"
He can do this, he thinks. If Daniel'll let him.
Daniel's pale-eyed. Pastel fucking green. The moles on his face beg to be touched, and the scar on his temple is something Edward yearns to soothe. Daniel blinks, once, twice. Turns his cheek into Edward's palm, almost unconsciously, and looks at Edward like he's reading his soul.
Rain hushes against the pavement. Strums itself on the rooftops, on garbage lids. On the metal overhang of Daniel's flower shop, and Edward wants to kiss him.
"Okay," Daniel says, quieter than Edward expected. It makes his ribs curl. Makes his heart beat.
He doesn't kiss him, no matter how much he wants to.
