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Sitting in a room lit by thousands of candles, she stared at her computer screen slowly deleting every word she'd ever written. A cigarette in a holder glowed dimly between her first and middle finger, the ash threatening to fall onto the keyboard at any moment. Glancing down she delicately tapped the green amber holder before glaring at what was left and deciding if there was another drag left on it. There wasn't but she pulled in regardless, coughing as hot smoke entered her lungs.
“I need to quit this” she muttered to the empty room.
It had been seven weeks since she'd heard from Kanaya. Whispers of every conversation they'd had in private echoed silently through her mind. Rose had been given an ultimatum. She was to stop smoking or they would never talk again. It wasn't so much that Rose hadn't wanted to stop, it was just so difficult. The cool, unbreakable front she so often put up was riddled with stress and the habit had been one of the few things that had given her time to calm down. It had turned from just when stressed to when she had finished eating and slowly increased from then. Now she was smoking from boredom. When Kanaya had told her to stop, she'd thought it an idle threat. Nothing to actually take action from. Slowly she stopped hearing from her. The pesterlogs had ceased and in the first week Rose had realised that idle threat was very real and the one person she had given her heart to had walked out of her life.
Looking away from the screen she looked down to a diary. It lay there covered in the ash from her most recent cigarette. Blowing the debris from the front, Rose pried open the front cover and began to read through the front page. Some of it was incoherent babbling, very unlike herself, and reading it made her screw her face up in embarrassment. That one person had made her lose her cool like this was simply ridiculous. Sighing, she mentally corrected herself. It was not in fact ridiculous, it was simply a little bit silly. Rose sighed, reaching for another stick, and then stopped and stared at the packet. Was it worth it? Another drag on a cigarette? Did she really need one? She hesitated, and then picked it up.
Just one more, she thought to herself, Then I can talk to Kanaya. I can tell her to come back. I'll throw the rest away to prove a point to her. She can't stay angry forever can she?
Taking a drag through the thin mouthpiece and inhaling, she remembered the times they had talked about these stupid little white bars. Kanaya didn't understand why Rose was smoking. Why she would happily harm her body and not act like it was a big deal. Exhaling, she remembered telling Kanaya to stop worrying, that it wasn't very many and that she could quit whenever she wanted to. Kanaya yelling at her. Kanaya asking her if why, if she could quit anytime, why not now. This moment. This moment right now. Just put it out. Put it out. Put the damn thing out on the ashtray.
The reason of course is that these things are never as easy as they seem. Those cylinders of tobacco were and will always be at the back of her mind and will taunt her every waking moment. Every film they watch together. Every black romance novel. Every old prohibition tale. There will always be the smoke, and then the anger and self hate that accompanies it.
Then the memory of trying to stop. The grimdark rising every time she attempted to curb her anger and not lash out at an animate object.
Rose frowned a little. It was clearly going to be a harder experience than she'd originally expected.
Kanaya was worth that though.
Worth the anger and rage and self hate.
Worth everything.