Finally, after a horrid long day of glasses clinking, patrons talking louder than usual, and the boat itself rocking on top of the rather choppy waves, your shift, as a waiter, came to a close.

Shuffling through the sliding doors of the upper deck & bar, your tired eyes finally scanned the beautiful horizon; the sun in front of the ship was currently setting— tucking itself behind the sea while casting gorgeous hues of neon apricot, cherry blossom pinks, hibiscus dark reds, and creamy pale yellows. A few seagulls squawked and flew over head while they were accompanied by the gentle hum of the very large motor. Your eyes closed as you took a deep breath of the salt water air— only to be greeted by the second hand smoke it carried.

With your eyes peeling open just as quickly as they closed, they settled onto the tall man standing a few feet from you, right under the no smoking sign— a cigarette settled between his slender fingers as he took continuous drags, his head hung low as a loud sigh accompanied the smoke leaving his lips.

Walking over there at once, you poked at his shoulder and waited for him to turn around— which he did. Very slowly. His face seemed rather familiar— you’ve seen him x amount of times now on board, obviously he was a wealthy man to afford such amounts of cruises.

“You know this is a non smoking deck, yes?” You half informed, half scoffed whilst pointing to the sign above his spiky hairstyle. His half lidded brown eyes stayed focused on you, not moving to glance up at the rusted sign. Instead, they just studied you. Intently.

After a few beats, he still didn’t sound. His fingers went up to his lips before he took another deep inhale and maintained eye contact with you, a small provocative smirk on his lips. “Well,” His voice was low and deliciously so. The stranger coiled and blew the smoke into your face while leaning down, and flicked his dead bud into the lapping waves below. “Guess you’ll have to stop me then, no?”