Snippet #1382378

When the waitress left, Scott started to feel the uneasiness wash over like it usually did everyday after a fight with his mother. A frown fell upon his lips and he rummaged through his pockets and retrieved his cigarettes. Taking his first puff, he felt the smoke flood into his lungs, and Scott tried to believe that it was helping him de-stress like it apparently did for other people. But as usual, nicotine had not much effect on him like every other thing that never managed to tempt him into addiction. Nevertheless, he did carry around a pack with him wherever he went although the same pack would remain with him for weeks or sometimes a whole month. The most he ever did was probably a stick a day for a whole week but he supposed that it only happened that one time because he was too desperate for assurance. He often did wish that he could escape from everything and pour his thoughts away like his mother did.

The taste of the tobacco stained his tongue and Scott winced, it being the one thing he hated about cigarettes, apart from the strong smell it left on his fingers. As he took another puff, he saw the redhead waitress guide a girl to the booth next to him. At first, he had not been bothered when he quickly glanced over and returned to staring at the glowing end of his cigarette.

He looked up towards the girl and frowned. She did look odd, all covered in mud and rain and he could sense discomfort in her eyes. Another long drag of his cigarette as he watched her watch him. On normal circumstances, he would have told her to piss off because it was rather odd to stare but something did not make him want to. His eyes ran up and down the girl and he found her rather foreign but he could not place his finger on how. The one thing he could figure out was that she was shivering, from the cold dampness that clung onto her clothes and hair. The bar was warm enough but it probably was not ideal if you paraded through the rain and expect to feel comfortable in here.

Butting his cigarette, he slide onto the right side of the booth, closer to the girl. It was a rather strange thing to do but he still watched her, his eyes locked on her with curiosity burning in own eyes. A second later, he took of his jacket and held it in his hand. Scott never really liked sharing, especially not anything that belonged to his father but he did not think that it would be nice if he neglected the girl of some warmth.

"Here." He handed her the jacket with the smallest smile filled with insecurity but assurance.