Spike Spiegel Cigarette Novels & Stories

She curled her lips and said, " It's in a bar on Moscow." After another breath, she slowly turned the white cigarette, as if she was looking at something. The smoke slowly came out from her red lips, and in the dim light, a golden logo on the cigarette flickered with golden light. She intentionally or unintentionally said, "You have been smoking this brand all the time, and you have never changed it." "..." She turned her head and saw Blake's cigarette between his thin lips. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the darkness in front of him. No one knew what he was thinking about.

Picking a roll of cigarette, Stamp sat beside him and let out a boisterous laugh that can wake the whole neighborhood. "What the hell, man. You look so happy." He commented to his face sarcastically, mocking his sulking face. Mahiriko gave his friend a sarcastic smile as he light the cigarette. "You ate a lot of humor in you, Stamp." He replied and blows the fragrant smell of the weed. "What the hell happened to you? You look like hell, man." Stamp picked the half consumed roll and hit it. Mahiriko sneered and played the smoke at he blows it, forming a round circle in the air. "Congratulations to me, I just received the most plaguey speech from them. So nice." He snarkily uttered and lean hi

A soft smile was on his face that quickly disappeared. It was different from the evil smirks or mischievous grins he had most of the time. It was a genuine smile that made his eyes sparkle. I was starting to see what those girls saw in him. "You know shooting stars are meteors, right?" There was a bit of smugness in his voice. I took the last bit of my shawarma, chewing it lightly. "Science ruins everything fun." I sneered. Mikhail pulled out the cigarette, holding it between his fingers. The scent of burnt tobacco and several chemicals, which were unhealthy, lingered. The edges crack lightly as it burns.

She sighed and set to work adjusting her attire. "T-Thank you...by the way," she said turning her attention to Brick at last. "I mean...if you hadn't come along..." "Don't mention it," replied Brick smoothly. He suddenly began going through his pockets and pulled out a nearly empty pack of cigarettes in a white box with a picture of what looked to be a camel on it. He put one of the thin white sticks to his lips and flicked a silver cross-engraved liter, igniting the end of it before taking a drag from it and putting the liter away.

"I..." "Seeing you like this once again, I would think you are a spy sent to kill me" he said, walking towards a table and talking out a cigarette. He placed it in his mouth and without caring about the woman in the room, lit it and took a draw from it in a graceful manner.

He didn’t want to disappoint Sky but he was happy, he could be the only one Sky can tolerate. “Come here.“ Sky motioned to his laps. And Azxel as an obedient boy walked towards him. “Take this.” Azxel pointed the tobacco cigarettes towards his lips. Azxel had never taken cigarettes before, in fact he hated it, because he always choked on the smell but he didn't want to disappoint Sky.

"You too spit fire but did I ever complain?" Payton replied parting his lips before soon settling a cigarette in between which he just took out of his pocket with his gold lighter designed richly with diamonds stating P.F in bold. Lighting the cigarette with it shortly. Then taking a long breath in, he sucked the smoke calmly before releasing it looking up in the sky as well in a calm manner. Shoving his lighter back in his previous pocket while getting the hold of the cigarette in between his fingers, Payton glanced at Nicole’s figure one more time beside him.

Her eyes scanned the room—and there he was. Spencer. Sitting by the corner window, barely visible in the dim light, blowing out a slow stream of smoke. His jaw was tight, one hand resting loosely on his knee, the other dangling the cigarette like it owed him answers. “You’re back,” he said without turning. Monica blinked, taken aback. Her gaze dropped—three... four... no, five cigarette butts lay crushed near his shoes. Her heart sank. “What are you doing here? Did you smoke all of this?” she whispered, alarm bleeding into her voice. “Spencer... do you want to kill yourself?”

I asked, still not looking at him as my eyes were fixed on the broken man being dragged across the floor. “Absolutely,” he replied with a smirk, wiping his hands on a rag. “I feel so pumped, almost like I’m high on drugs. I fucking miss this shit, man. We should do it more often.” He tossed the rag aside like it offended him, then pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He took a long drag, smoke curling around his blood-splattered face before he exhaled with a slow, satisfied sigh, his head dropping back while I stayed silent. “How do you even know he was a spy?” he asked, taking another drag.

Cool wind was blowing from the open windows of the mansion, towing the smoke of Spade’s cigarette in my direction. Spade chuckled, finally reaching where I was and sitting down beside me. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and crushed its tip on the floor. “Cora will not like that,” I chided. “She doesn’t have to know,” Spade whispered, flicking the remains of his human cancer stick out the window. I shook my head, then tipped my chin until my head was resting on the wall. The overhead lights were bright and blinding. “Why is this happening, Spade?”