this world is a wasteland where nothing can grow
"Judgy?" Niki seems surprised at that. "A shame. I found it a comfort as well, especially on nights when I could not get to sleep. Too much of a comfort though, in the end," he admits with a crooked smile. A chain-smoking eighteen year old who is already frail had been laughable even to himself, and so here he is, smoke-free for the most part. (Everybody gets stressed from time to time, okay?)
I know, he might have drawled at being able to stop whenever he pleases, but by that time the vodka is trying to burn a hole clean through his throat and it's with a quick, breathless laugh that Niki accepts the water to take a few very necessary sips of it. "I am starting to understand the difference now, yes," he says. "Do you want me to try the cocktail now, or shall I continue setting fire to my lungs first?" he asks, gesturing to the rest of the flight of liquor and the more innocuous tasters sitting behind them.
I know, he might have drawled at being able to stop whenever he pleases, but by that time the vodka is trying to burn a hole clean through his throat and it's with a quick, breathless laugh that Niki accepts the water to take a few very necessary sips of it. "I am starting to understand the difference now, yes," he says. "Do you want me to try the cocktail now, or shall I continue setting fire to my lungs first?" he asks, gesturing to the rest of the flight of liquor and the more innocuous tasters sitting behind them.
Niki
i used to have strength but i ran out of hope
