@jacklevesque
There was a curl of smoke coming from the gallery of the theatre. It was the faintest tendril, dissipating and invisible under the stage lights, but as Pearl climbed the steps of the theatre, she could only just barely smell it. French cigarettes, smoked one after the other if her nose was correct. When she reached the furthest seats, she could see who was responsible for it. A scowling smoke stack made human, Jack Lévesque. She had come with the intention of finding an isolated place to finish some work, but she felt some relief in seeing that there was an opportunity for company. “Any chance I could bum a cigarette?” Pearl only smoked casually, and maybe even less than that. She’d mastered the art of not coughing up a lung with every drag in her first year at Augustine, and managed to keep that skill from atrophying too much at the parties thrown on campus. She came closer, sinking into the chair beside the long limbed boy without invitation. She knew by now he would never invite her to take a seat. “Were you having a quick brood?”










