Mitchell was pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, watching stars explode behind his eyelids before he opened them again in time to catch the lighter that was chucked towards him. Mitchell caught it between two bloodstained hands. He could use a fag himself. The aching need, the hunger, had gone now, or at least mostly. It would be back - Vampire blood only killed it for so long, but at this very second he felt better than he had in a bloody long time.
He stepped towards Spike, who was now leaning against a gravestone, and reached down with the Zippo to light the cigarette between the blonde's lips, chucking the lighter into Spike's lap when it was done. For a second he took the time to properly look at Spike. He'd never had the chance before, after all. He was taller than he'd expected. And he had cheekbones that could cut glass. Mitchell sighed and pulled his own pack of fags and lighter from the pocket of his skinny jeans, slumping down to sit in the grass himself and lighting up.
Mitch took a deep drag on the roll of paper and tobacco, feeling it flood his chest and calm the shaking that threatened to overwhelm him as the adrenaline began to wear off. He rested his elbows on his knees, sagging forward tiredly and taking another lungful of smoke.
"I was... erm..." He wiped his hand over his mouth again, then licked the few drops of Spike's blood he'd managed to catch with his thumb. "I was at the cinema with Lisa. I dunno. She was resting against me and I just... Fuck." He turned the cigarette between his fingers, brow creasing in a pained frown. "I didn't hurt her," he pointed out, and felt a huge wash of relief over that fact. "I didn't hurt anyone."