Scribble: A Neko Case-filled week.

      The snow stopped falling only moments ago, stray flakes still drifting in the frigid air. Vapor from cocoa still snake and wind through halogen beams, merging with the stench of tobacco on its way to the sky.
      She flicks an ash like another snowflake, tumbling to the ground to hide amidst the others. He's still smiling in the photograph, his arms still wrapped around from behind, his hands still feeling at home in hers. In her hand, the photo shines in the halogen's glow, dulled only by a few stray tears.
      The cigarette burns down halfway to the filter, as she sets down her mug to take it in hand. "Figures," she says to the picture, "you got me into this damn habit, give me something to always remember you by..."
      Standing, she flicks the cig away, casually stepping on it before it has a chance to drown in the snow. In a single motion, her fingers flick open the lighter, shut it, and toss it into the distance.
      "At least I'm not goin' to give you that satisfaction anymore," she says, returning her cocoa to her hands. "I'm worth at least that much." Staring up at the sky once more, she chuckles, before turning to step back inside, leaving a small trail of sweet-smelling vapor behind.
      That, and a pile of ash, that once had been her beloved.