He grabbed your shoulders, whirling you around to face him. The cigarette hung loosely from your mouth, making his face fall.

“Darling, don’t you join in,” he says insistently, looking at you with guilt in his eyes. Smoking was always a bad habit of his, one that you hated very much. And yet, here you were. Following in his footsteps.

“You’re supposed to drag me away from it.”