"You're quite well aware how I don't like all of these putrid smells, yet here you are, trying to test me again and again."
Athan grunted from her complaint. While it was true, he thought that he could take his time and keep himself awake for a little while with a variety of items that were within his arm's reach. The cigar was just the first; drugs have yet to come to and waited to increase his level of awareness, at least at the level he's stable as a sane person.
His gaze roamed around, but it was as though the furniture danced like trees, bowing to and fro, against the storm, and the walls and ceilings began to swirl like sea tides that crashed one another.
'Oh no, I feel weak again—Damn! Not this time! Not yet—!'
Even so, he curbed and fell on all fours as he witnessed his hand wobbling, almost a sudden disintegration from his body.
