“Fuckin’ prick.” Lucian mumbled as he headed down the sidewalk, desperately trying to pull a cigarette from his coat pocket. It was getting colder, that’s the excuse he was going with for why his fingers just wouldn’t fucking work. It’d been a couple of weeks since he’d gone out on his own, with the whole ‘raining blood’ situation, he’d hardly left his apartment. What he’d wanted was one drink and to just filter out the noise in his head for a bit but what he’d got was one bar full of everyone talking about the current happenings in the city. Which had only proceeded to stress him out. Which might have led him to snap at someone two stools over.
It wasn’t really a bar fight if he’d left before someone could tell them to take it outside, right?
Sighing in exasperation, he slid his thumb over the end of his cigarette and let the digit linger there for just a moment to feel the familiar warmth. The moment his vice was between his lips he stopped in his tracks to just be. Long inhale. Slow exhale. “Walk it off, dumbass.” He mumbled to himself, watching the smoke trail up into the night air. @malchesterfield
