“Cigarette?” And he offers me one, knowing that I am out of them and I am standing near him, struggling a bit due to his skirt.

My throat is a bit sore and he keeps smoking and he is in platforms, laughing at something he mentioned earlier but instead I sink it at the cross dresser, who seems to be my height, but feels too tiny.

I watched him in class, sometimes sitting cross legged, as he would act and I would look at how bright his lips were and how he would play female better than anyone else or how he would apply lipstick wherever the cigarettes would snatch the colour away.

I wondered if I took that one cigarette and took a puff, would I be the one to snatch the colour in that area.

I’ve been told who poofs where, I’ve seen some on the street, but I never had anyone right in front of me and someone who would still wear those platforms and manage to actually have sex with girls in a bright blue sweater and make out sometimes trying to be private. I had been looking for a carton of orange juice and he had a trolley.

READ MORE SWALLOW- JAMIE HINCE/BRIAN MOLKO FANFICTION AT GRASPTHESANITY