As the smoke lingers off of her tongue, you can see the smirk so evident on her face. She traces the outline of her lips with her tongue and gently inhales the cigarette smoke. You can see the tiny glint of a ***** bottle on her nightstand and the ashtray that is overwhelmed with burnt out cigarettes. She is staring at the ceiling and you have no idea what in the world she is thinking so hard about. All you know is that you want to know. And you want to know the way her lips curve around the tempting neck of the ***** bottle, or the way her tongue moves as she blows off smoke from that cataclysmic cigarette sheβs holding. Alcohol and cigarettes, thatβs what everyone thinks ruins your life. But those two things are what saves hers.