It's late, he shouldn't be awake, and he knows it. What's more, he knows he surely shouldn't be smoking inside the church of all places.

But no one's watching. He has no need to feel guilty.

...Right?

He leans on his desk, taking a long drag of his cigarette, as his fingers grip the whiskey bottle tightly. It's half empty at this point, and he can taste it on his breath, but he realizes that he simply doesn't care anymore.

God, this sucks.