The smell of smoke and curiosity

~Dante's POV~

I should have never gone to see her. I feel bad for leaving her like that when in reality we should have never met. I should have never gone round, I should have never answered her voice the first time she knocked on the very door I'm now cowering at with my head in my hands.

Even though I'm cowering and fighting with myself in deep thought, I can't seem to scratch that deadly feeling out of my stomach. It's a sickly feeling, a feeling that can only be described as when the butterfly suddenly turns to moths and wants to devour everything in sight. But she smelt so good.. NO I can't think like this! Oh, the sweet smell of honeysuckle and warm vanilla. I wanted it so bad. I craved it.

It's like it called to me, a subtle whisper that you don't dare to look to see who spoke it but the curiosity clawed at me and I looked. Did she see? Did she notice? I left in such a hurry that I didn't realize I had turned to her at the last second. A second that could have been dangerous for us both. I hope she's okay... No stop thinking like this, get her out of your head! Every thought I have just reminded me of that smell again, like nothing I've ever smelt before. Arguing with myself I realized I need to clear my head, I need to get away for a few hours as the smell is still lingering in my nose, begging me to come back for a second whiff.

Shutting my front door as I quietly as I could, trying not to wake her if she has gone to sleep that is, I hope she did and I hope she forgets about what she may have seen or thought it was just the wine bubbling up in her causing her not to think straight. It's 1:03 am and the town awaits my presence.

I've been out for three hours and yet nothing. The town is dead and it's boring me, nothing but drunks and the homeless are on the streets at this ungodly hour. Nothing is going to quench this feeling, this thirst, this hunger...

I get back into my flat with nothing but a heavy chest, a dry throat much like sandpaper, and in a worse state than when I left. The only craving I can withstand and give into right now is the one in my pocket, my cigarettes. It helps sometimes, especially when I'm on the edge. So I peel open the new packet I had collected from the 24-hour shop while on my nightly walk, the only thing I had collected.

Inhaling that first drag was the only release I would feel right now. Settling my I guess you can say "itch" for a short while. Cracking open the balcony doors slowly to relax and smoke outside. When in an instant my mood changed again, as I got a sweet aroma overpowering the smell of my bitter cigarettes. It was her.

Glancing over to see she had left her door open. Stupid girl. Before I could think about my next move I found myself outside of her door leading to her bedroom with a lump in my throat, like my body is moving on its own. I must get closer I believed. Stealthily wandered into her room like a burglar and then I saw her. All tucked up in bed without a care in the world, she looked so vulnerable, so unaware.

I crept closer until I could almost feel her breathing on me. Why am I doing this, why am I- she moved. Her face now scrunched up like a child having a bad dream, except she's not a child but that does look like a nightmare, without my consent my hand betrayed me and reached out to her, caressing her cheek and moving the strand of fire like hair away from her face. So soft and so... beautiful?

My thoughts are racing, much like her heart is right now, oh how I can hear the drum beating in her chest, like a scared little rabbit. How I wish to make it jump more. I leaned in, just enough so I could take in them addictive fumes she so likes to give off.

Her heart is starting to flutter less like a fast-tracked song, as she is beginning to wake up so I must take my leave. How long had I stood there for? as dawn is unfolding one last peek and I disappeared back into my own home, closing her door behind me to not let the temptation get any stronger, for now...