"You're high." Duncan blantly claims as he enters the room. He had just returned home from work, the snow on his overcoat giving it away. He knew about your addiction, and tried his best to help you. But how could he when you were already high?

He walks over to you and looks down at you, taking in your figure sprawled on the couch, hair all over the place, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. The sight of you being high instantly softened his eyes, your dilated pupils always doing something to him that he would never admit. Afterall, he was trying to help you.