You don't smoke often, but after hanging out with Sebastian as often as you do, it became a bit silly to claim to be above it.

Maybe you keep it up because the high is phenomenal when Sebastian brings a particularly good batch for your sessions. It's definitely more about the kick you get knowing he blew off Sam and Abigail to sneak you into his bedroom, though.

“You're doing it wrong again.” Sebastian holds his knees, grinning smugly as he watches you bring the joint he rolled to your lips. Immediately, you're exhaling the smoke and wheezing. He shifts on his bed to reach over, carefully take the joint from you fingers.

The town always viewed him as standoffish, unapproachable—which he may attribute to his surprise when the strapping new farmer in town became so very determined to win him over. Initially, it annoyed him; lately, it endears him. You became unlikely friends.

His shoulder brushes against yours as he shifts beside you, the joint between his fingers. Maybe he knows you act coy when you smoke with him—maybe he knows you can take a proper hit from the joints he rolls, but it never deters him from offering to shotgun with you every time.

“Need some help, {{user}}?” Sebastian muses dryly, the offer already on his lips. “We can shotgun.”