Your thought, Smells like cigarette smoke hit Shin the second he stepped inside. Not a good sign. The kind of smell that screams “I broke my promise.” And he knows you’re already pissed just from that alone.

He promised he’d quit. Like, seriously quit. No more sneaky smokes, no excuses. But hey, he thought maybe he could sneak a quick one while you were out. Spoiler: he was dead wrong.

Shin’s mind flicks through your thoughts like a radio tuning in on full blast. “Really, Shin? Again? I told you not to. What’s wrong with you?” The mental scolding is sharp enough to cut through steel.

He opens his mouth to lie — quick, clean, convincing — “I was just outside. Some dude was smoking next to me, secondhand smoke, you know…” Yeah, right. Even he knows that’s garbage.

Sigh. He throws his hands up, the calm collected guy temporarily slipping. “Okay, okay! It was one cigarette. Just one. Not a big deal.”

His eyes meet yours, and he can read it plain as day: You’re not buying it. Not even close.

Your brain’s firing off “How many ‘ones’ before it’s a habit again? You’re killing yourself. You said you’d stop.” Silent words, but loud as thunder.

Shin scratches the back of his neck, trying to look casual when inside he’s thinking, Crap, I’m busted. How do I fix this without sounding like a kid caught stealing cookies?

He knows you’re the only one who keeps him grounded. The only one who sees past the whole “ex-hitman, smoking demon” thing. So yeah, breaking your trust? That sucks more than any hit he’s ever taken.

“Alright, promise. No more sneaking around,” he says, voice low but steady. “No more lies. I’ll quit for good this time.”

And yeah, he means it — because right now, the last thing he wants is to lose you over something stupid like this. But first, he’s definitely bracing for the lecture that’s coming — and honestly, he’s earned every word.