Marlboro

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Marlboro.

The brand he smokes.

The smell of Marlboror, I wil always think of my blonde when that smell driftes to my nostrils.

I've begun to smoke Marlboro's myself, just for the smell.

Well, not only for the smell. For the taste, too.

Every drag on those cancersticks, the taste remindes med of sinful lips. If I close my eyes, violet gems come back to watch me. I fell how lips presses against mine.

Lips that tastes of Marlboro. I feel marble hands clutch the back of my skull, drawing through my fiery hair.

I hear myself whisper sweet nothing in his ear, holding him near.

Yesterday, I was out buying Marlboro's, spending the last of my cash.

I didn't thought of what I would eat, just cherishing the moment with the Marlboro between my lips.

Blonde and violet flooded through my head when the taste, the smell, overwhelmed me, like it does every time.

It was then, when the snow where dyed grey from the exhaust fumes, I ran into him.

More, he found me. I dind't notice him at first. I stood in the middle of the snowfilled marketplace, looking up in the white sky, the Marlboro in my mouth.

''Goyjo.''

That voice. Surging, white-blinding lust shot through my body, as I turned around.

Slightly shorter, blonde hair and livid, violet gems.

I've missed you.

''Sanzo-sama,'' I say whit a grin.

There, in the snow, lips finally met mine, with the right taste. Marble hands grabbed my hair, tannes arm snuck around a pale neck, Marlboro between two fingers, kissing sinful lips.

That tasted Marllboro.

That tasted blonde and violet.

That tasted Sanzo.

I love you, Sanzo-sama.

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So, what do you think? Please, R&R!