She desperately wanted another smoke there and then, and Mana's hand naturally slid into the jacket pocket where she kept them. One of the two boxes felt empty already. Mana refrained from whipping out a cig, expression drooping into a wholly unenthused look. Was this girl suffering from schizophrenia? Her peculiar heterochromia took a backseat to the unexpected slight smile that pulled at her lips. One moment teetering on the edge of sudden death -the next, trying to play it cool.

Mana's hair had begun to sink and become heavy in the rain, sticking to her skin and obscuring the already dappled vision her right eye managed through her bangs. She desperately wanted to call her 'kid' again.

"Are you screwing with me? You were about to kill yourself. Though in your fucked up mind right now you probably [i]are[/i] thinking it's right or normal or whatever," Mana said throwing her free hand around. "Look. I don't want your life story, but tell me at least what's going through your head... I wanna know you're not gonna get back up on that ledge when I'm gone. Do I have to call the police?" Mana threatened.

"...Stop smiling at me too."