Leather Jackets and Cigarettes

A story about how I fell in love with my best friend.

She wore a leather jacket and smelt of cigarettes that night,

When we went to the movies, ate buttery popcorn and,

With sticky fingers and mischief in our hearts,

Covered our mouths and giggled as we fantasied about which movie stars we wanted as our husbands.

Then, as I looked at her, 

The screen flashed a bright blue sky and her face was illuminated Celestial.

She is so beautiful.

Her favourite colour is blue, or maybe she is just in love with how it seems to go on for forever.

Actually, I don't know her favourite colour at the moment, it changes as often as her eyes do. 

Her eyes were green on this night, my favourite colour. 

I watched those green eyes light up as she spoke of "him".

I captured the way the light seemed to glow in her eyes in my mind,

Hoping that, when she was talking to me, I could imagine they lit up like that.

My cheeks flushed and my heart yearned, as it never had before

For her to grab my hand and squeeze it,

For I felt that I was falling apart, 

Seeing her mouth moving but not hearing.

Seeing the way her lips glistened with her favourite honey lip balm.

The balm that I got for her, and after she used it, I did as well,

Wondering if it it was the honey or if her lips were really that sweet. 

The rest of the night was filled with stolen glances and sweaty palms.

As I dropped her off, I had the urge to kiss her,

Such a strong urge that I physically swayed towards her,

Her perfume filling my lungs, layered with the smell of leather and cigarettes as she laughed

And gave me a hug goodnight.

I drove home, eyes stinging as I clutched the lighter that she had left in my car.

I lit it and then blew it out, trying to think about something else.

She was the one who I had my first smoke with, we shared one.

My first drag warmed me up and made my chest tighten, but I don't know if that was the smoke

Or how I got the slightest taste of honey.

As I got home and laid my head down on the pillow, I got a text:

"Thanks for tonight, seriously I really needed it, I love you so much Kenz"

And with cold fingers (my fingers always get cold when I smoke),

I replied:

"No problem bean, you know I'm always here for you. I love you too."

Author's Note

I'm thinking about writing a story based on being bisexual and life and things, should I do it?