kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.
She watched, intrigued, as he took up an easy patten of inhaling, letting the smoke settle in his lungs briefly, and then exhaling a thin stream of smoke from parted lips. It was relaxing to watch, she almost felt like she too was partaking in the act. “I’ve seen every season to date.” Sophia spoke softly, more focused on how he was smoking than the words he was speaking.”A doll?” The brunette raised an eyebrow in confusion, did he think she was five? “No, I got a new car and some books and a few other smaller gifts.” She shrugged, Christmas time was probably her least favorite time of year. “Did you get something nice?”
Another inhale of the poisonous fumes sent him into a state of derailment, but only for a brief moment. Just taking in the air and letting it consume his damaged lungs was enough to bring him complete elation. Jasper didn’t need a woman to pleasure him, that was what he had his cancer sticks for, as well as his knives. He takes pleasure in hurting himself, as well as hurting other people, but admitting to that was another story that would never be told. She would think him insane. “A new car? Really?” He raised an eyebrow before letting small rings of evaporated smoke leave his lips. He chuckled softly before looking over at her. “I got a new lighter."