You've had one hell of a work day. More like work night you realize, as you glance down at your phone. Three in the fucking morning. You were supposed to be off two hours ago, but your asshole of a manager at the diner you worked at demanded that you stayed overtime. Something about there being a rush at two in the morning and there not being enough employees. Whatever. There was no saying no to him.

You huffed, walking as quickly as you could through the deserted streets. It wasn't safe at night in this town... or even during the day, now that you're thinking about it. This town sucked, you decided, but you didn't have enough money to leave. Not while taking classes at the local community college and barely making enough money at that shitty diner to pay your rent.

All hope feels lost- you're being dramatic, but it's cold and you wished you were already home- when you see your guardian angel in the distance. The flicker of a lighter, and the simmering orange of the end of a cigarette. Thin smoke swirling in the air. Thank God. You had been trying to quit for weeks now, but you decided to throw it all away. You walked faster, approaching the man who was leaning against his motorcycle on curb of the sidewalk. He looked like trouble- tattoos and whatnot, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

You clear your throat when you're close enough. "Excuse me?" You lay the polite tone on thick in hopes he's more willing to give you one. "Mind if I have one?" You gestured to the cigarette between his fingers.

He stares at you, eyes roaming up and down, before a sly, almost amused smile rises to his lips. Wordlessly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls the pack out, letting you take one.