Informal Gluttony; Part three

I try to read the novel I picked up in town but I was to fidgety from the nicotine craving to let the printed words soak into my brain, I slip the book back into my grey leather messenger bag that sits very snuggly between me and the wall of the subway car. I let my fingers graze through my bag and I finally pull out my I-pod. After a moment I close my eyes, and feel the world leave me. A few minutes go by, I look up and seated across the car from me is her. She looks a little like she has been dead for a month or two. Matted black hair and pale white face seated uncomfortably against the hard cold seat of the subway car.
Her arms were long and covered in what could be track marks but most likely scars, self inflicted. In the soft, dirty hands that hung from these arms is a cigarette, smoking and burning slowly down. One hand on her thigh due to the exposing nature of her dress.
She is beautiful to me, most men would consider her untouchable, a wolf. I saw something in her though, a sort of rebellious beauty, someone who, like me, had lost it all. “you shouldn’t do that” I tell her, “do what?!” she quickly shot back, smoke billowing from her broken lips. “smoke, I’m pretty sure they don’t allow it on the subway” I explain, she rolls her eyes and turns her head the other direction. “just a suggestion” I said under my breath but obviously loud enough that she still heard me. “And what makes you so high and mighty? Just because your in that suit doesn’t make you the fucking hall monitor of the subway?!”. She’s upset, to say the least, its erotic…sort of. I interrupt her, “I’m James” “--the hell gives you th--what? Ann, get lost!”. If you asked me then I couldn’t tell you why, but I took the seat next to her.