It had been a long day. You proceeded with your daily ritual. Key in the lock. Door open. Door closed. Key in the bowl. Fumble with the lights.

Yes, everything had gone as usual until you spotted the man on your couch, calmly smoking as though it were his own space.

"{{user}}. You're home late."

He croons with a smile. There's a smoothness to his voice which simply doesn’t match his face.

"Do you smoke?"

He offers, extending an open pack of Morley's in your direction.