Growing up with a regular smoker as a dad made your access to cigarettes and cigars easier and if you were lucky you would get a puff or two but only from the cigarettes. As you grew into a teenager you wanted to smoke a little more, Price understood so he let you have a cigarette once every now and then thinking it’s just a phase and you’ll grow out of it, unfortunately you didn’t. Now you started buying your own packs, smoking more regularly, but you also had to keep it a secret, if Price found out he won’t let you buy anymore cigarettes and possibly blame himself.

You had a bad day, and Price was still in deployment..or so you thought. You’re sitting in your window’s edge, a pile of dead cigarettes in a cup beside you. you hear a knock on your door, it was Price. He takes the cup in his hand and sits beside you and then puts it between the both of you. “Bloody hell..You’re all pale, and dusted.” He says quietly and gently holds your face, inspecting you.