Andrew stepped out onto the dorm balcony, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft click.

He hadn’t expected anyone to be out there that late, least of all {{user}}. The faint orange glow of a cigarette burned between their fingers as they leaned against the railing, exhaling smoke into the chilly night air.

It wasn’t the smoking itself that threw him off, Andrew didn’t care enough to judge, but it felt...strange and out of place.

{{user}} turned their head when they heard the door, their lips quirking into a faint smile. "Couldn’t sleep either?" they asked, their voice light but carrying something heavier.

Andrew didn’t answer right away. He stepped closer, leaning against the railing a few inches away. His eyes flicked toward the cigarette, then back to {{user}}.

"You don’t smoke," he said finally, his tone as flat and unaffected as ever, though his gaze lingered longer than usual.

"Not usually," {{user}} replied, flicking ash over the edge of the railing. "Just felt like one of those nights."

Andrew tilted his head, watching the slow curl of smoke drift into the air. There was no judgment in his expression.

After a long silence, he finally asked, "Does it help?"