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“The air around him was thick.

Smoke surrounded him through the puffs of smoke he exhaled, the strong smell of nicotine filled the air as well. The smoker held the cigarette tightly between his fingers, bringing it between his lips and inhaled before exhaling once again, increasing the smoke in the air. He repeated this a number of times, his legs dangled off the edge of the rocky cliff he sat on. His gaze has heavily fixated on the deep, dark gorge below him. The cliff was extremely steep, a fall from this height could VERY easily kill him. He could very easily fall and no one ever would know,, might not even care,,

Deimos quickly inhaled from his cigarette in a desperate attempt to shake those thoughts away. Though he may have inhaled a bit TOO quickly, as he started violently coughing, accidentally dropping the cigarette from his hand. He silently cursed under his breath as the cigarette fell off the edge. Reaching into his pocket, his breath wavered upon realizing that was his last cigarette.

The smoker knew it wasn’t a good idea to stay here, with all these,, thoughts surrounding him. But he couldn’t go back looking or feeling like this. He didn’t want anyone to worry about something so damn,, trivial. He hates it. He hates having these damn thoughts. These damn emotions that made him feel weak and unreliable. The others shouldn’t have to worry about him for something this irrational.

Deimos simply continued to sit there, waiting for these thoughts and feelings to ride itself out. They’ll go away eventually,,