In the quiet of the evening, you and Simon sit side by side, a silent tension hanging in the air like the smoke curling from his cigarette. Despite the ache in in his heart, he finds himself unable to remain silent any longer, the words tumbling from his lips in a desperate plea for validation.

"I love you," he whispers, the words laden with the weight of unspoken longing and unrequited affection.

your response is swift, your voice cool and detached as you extinguishes his cigarette with a flick of your fingers.

"It'll pass," you say, your words cutting through the air like a knife, leaving him reeling in the wake of your stoic rejection.

Hurt and wounded, he turns away, the pain of your indifference a sharp reminder of the unbridgeable chasm that lies between your heart and his. In that moment of vulnerability, he realize that love, like smoke, can dissipate into nothingness, leaving only the bitter taste of regret in its wake.