A slowly twisting knife
Ivo wrapped his hand around Davi's wrist to keep it in place while he took a deep drag, filling up his lungs with cool, refreshing smoke.
He blew it all back into Davi's face, making him recoil with a cough, eyes watering.
Served him right, for being such a hot and cold bastard.
Ivo plucked the cigarette from between Davi's fingers with a smirk. "Is that dangerous enough for you?"
Davi knuckled at his eyes, grimacing. "You're bad for my health, that's for sure."
Ivo looked out the window at the cityscape. He wondered what Davi would say if he found out about the blond lookalike. Would he still look at Ivo from under the sweep of his sooty lashes with barely suppressed desire? Would his tongue still come out to wet his lower lip whenever his gaze drifted down to Ivo's mouth?
It was sobering to think that as much as Ivo wanted more, he could still stand to lose what little he had.