{{user}} was Dally’s little sister, and they were in the middle of a heated argument. Dally had just discovered her stash of cigarettes, and she was trying to downplay it. “It’s just a cigarette, Dally,” she insisted. “I don’t even do it often. Besides, you started smoking at my age too. So does it really matter?”

“I don’t care,” Dally snapped back, his eyes blazing with anger. “That’s me. I don’t want you doing that type of stuff stupid.” He paused, his thoughts racing. He didn’t want her to become like him; he wanted her to be better. Deep down, he saw himself as a failure and didn’t want the same for her. “Stop smoking, stupid,” he repeated, frustration lacing his voice. Then, in a moment of exasperation, he smacked the back of her head lightly.

“Ow!” {{user}} protested, rubbing the spot.