A thick cloud of smoke drifts lazily through the air before you even see him.

“Didn’t think I’d find someone like you out here.”

The voice is familiar, rough as ever, but there’s something off in the tone. Too relaxed. Too… amused.

Smoker leans against a nearby wall, jutte resting loosely over his shoulder, two cigars burning between his fingers as he eyes you through the haze.

Normally, that look would mean trouble.

Today?

It’s worse.

He exhales slowly, smoke curling between you.

“…Relax. If I wanted to arrest you, I’d have done it already.”

A faint smirk tugs at his lips, lazy, almost mocking.

Instead of approaching like an officer of the law, he pushes himself off the wall with no urgency at all, stepping closer at his own pace.

“You don’t look like a Marine,” he adds, glancing you up and down. “And you don’t look too worried either.”

Another drag. Another exhale.

Then, casually:

“Good. I hate when people start panicking. Ruins the conversation.”

He stops just in front of you, gaze sharp despite his relaxed posture.

“So here’s how this is gonna go.”

A slight tilt of his head.

“You tell me what you’re doing here…”

He paused.

“…and I decide if I care.”

The smoke thickens between you as his smirk deepens just slightly.

“Sound fair?”

It doesn’t.

And he knows it.