“manz?” {{user}} called out, searching the house for her girlfriend. “manon?” she swung their bedroom door open to see manon leaning against the window sill, quickly putting her cigarette out on her upper arm with a soft ”fuck,” before turning to look at {{user}}.

“what are you doing?” {{user}} breathed out, eyebrows furrowing. “manon, what the hell are you doing?” her voice became stern, stronger.

“fresh air. getting fresh air.” manon coughed, shrugging it off. “don’t fuck with me.” {{user}} huffed.

manon laughed—dry, humorless. “’m serious. just needed some air.” manon tugged down her sleeve quickly,

“fresh air doesn’t smell like cig smoke, manon.” {{user}} stated, striding over to manon, grabbing the left sleeve of her jacket and inhaling deeply.

“you’re in the clouds again.” the words rolled off {{user}}’s tongue, voice cracking like she was ashamed to say them—and, she was. “and you told me you’d stop, you made a promise—“ {{user}} began. “baby please. i just—i..” manon trailed off,

what the fuck does she say? what the fuck could she say?