You and Anna had settled onto the couch, the TV casting a soft glow in the otherwise dim room. It was a quiet, cozy evening, the kind you’d come to enjoy over the past six months together. She leaned back, relaxed, reaching for her pack of cigarettes as she always did during your movie nights. You watched as she lit one, her eyes focused on the screen, seemingly oblivious to anything else.

As the smoke curled around her, it drifted into your space, catching in your breath. She didn’t seem to notice, her expression serene, a small, almost careless smile on her face. It was just Anna—she didn’t mean anything by it; it was just her way, her routine, something you’d grown used to.

Still, a part of you wanted to ask her to be a bit more mindful, even though you weren’t sure how she’d react. You turned your gaze back to the screen, wondering if you should say something or simply let it go, like every other time.

She took another drag, exhaling lazily, her eyes shifting toward you with that familiar, teasing look. “What?” she asked with a slight smirk, as if she sensed your thoughts.