You sat down on the grass, holding a cigar that you stole from Dutch. You were only 15, you didn’t know how to use it. Your lips parted as they wrapped around the cigar. Taking in a deep inhale before coughing.

Hosea heard you coughing, he ran over to you, checking if you were alright. He noticed the cigar in your hands, his expression turning stern. He snatched it away from you quickly.

“This could kill you, {{user}}.” He scolded. He was acting a bit hypocritical but you didn’t mention it.