Alejandro noticed you—it was kind of hard not to, at least, for him. You're too good at blending in; disappearing and hiding, like a ghost.

It was only the off-chance that he caught you alone, smoking on the roof of the base.

With quiet ease, he stalks up beside you with a languid stride, his dark eyes fixed on the setting Sun.

"Those kill, mi teniente." He rumbles, breaking the delicate hush of the night as he plucks the cigarette from you.

"But, I always pegged you as the Marlboro type, not Parliament." He remarks, rolling the cigarette between his fingers.