Talking to you helps

The cold hit me the second I stepped outside, sharp and biting against my skin. I pulled my coat tighter around me, but the chill still seeped through, gnawing at the edges of my resolve.

It was exactly what I needed a slap of reality to chase away the heat that still lingered from being with Layla.

I reached into my pocket, fumbling with the pack of cigarettes and lighter I'd shoved there earlier. My fingers were trembling, but whether it was from the cold or everything that had just happened, I couldn't tell.

I lit the cigarette with a flick of the lighter, the tiny flame casting a brief glow in the darkened courtyard.

The first drag hit hard, the familiar burn settling in my lungs before I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl and twist in the frigid air. It was a poor substitute for calming my nerves, but it was something. Anything to keep my thoughts from spiraling.