Lulu took the cigarette from him, inhaling again, this time managing not to cough as much. She handed it back to him, eyes fixating on the red burning point at the end of it, not wanting to look away. She'd seen fire before but not really seen it. It wasn't a constant light. It pulsed and throbbed, much like the soreness between her legs, or the loud thudding of her heart when he touched her.
Once it was out of her hands, she returned to stroking his arm, preoccupied with its texture, as well as tracing the designs he'd etched into his skin. "Is this what's supposed to happen?"