Invitation Only
He leans back in his chair and relaxes his shoulders. He watches her take another draw from what seems like an endless cigarette. Her cheeks dent in as she tries to make the most out of her draw.
His legs cross over each other with one resting on the other’s knee, his arm hanging over the back of the chair as he watches her with intrigue. She takes the cigarette away from her lips and stretches her jaw open. A thick, white, plume of smoke pours out of her mouth, up and over her lip. She takes a quick, deep breath and the smoke disappears deep, down into the lungs behind her beautiful breasts.
He sits there silently, observing her closely and taking one last gulp from his vintage shiraz. She exhales, slowly. Her lips purse together to concentrate a thin, white stream of toxic, tobacco smoke. Her eyes close halfway, mainly to avoid smoke in her eyes, but also to help her savour the moment.
She extinguishes the cigarette in the deep, crystal ashtray. He watches her push the glowing, orange embers against the sparkling crystal surface. Once the cigarette is crushed, he looks back up at her face and slowly puts his glass on the table. She blows any remaining smoke out and over her left shoulder then looks at him looking at her. She stares deep into his eyes without saying a word.
A long, calm silence holds as their eye contact continues. She moves her index and middle slowly along the side of her forehead pushing her rich, brown fringe to the side of her face. She leans back in her chair and mirrors his posture. ‘So’, she says with a confident cadence. ‘Shall we go back to my place?’