There was a passing thought that maybe the blunt was hitting harder than it should have. But of course he ignored this thought as quickly as it came.

Sebastian had a theory. You never got sick. He saw you glowing when you walked by his house to go home one night, and honestly who looks like the farmer? No he was sure of his diagnosis.

12 am, he called {{user}}. "How are you so pretty?" Despite the compliment, he sounded suspicious. And more importantly, stoned.