“You don’t smoke,” she said, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke.

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I’ll stand here and pretend I do if it keeps you talking.”

She smirked, a little teasing, a little tired. “Or maybe I just like watching you frown.”

He didn’t smile, not really. He looked away, down the alley, the glow of the city behind them, and thought about how easy it had been to meet her, but how hard it is to keep her.