You were trying to quit. Really. It was just harder than you thought.

Hosea had been pushing you to tone down the cigarettes for months now, worried the smoke was affecting your health. You told him you’d quit in an awkward panic and, sure, you tried, but it didn’t last long.

So, now, you were up a tree, hiding from him with the ‘death device’ between your lips.

“Real discreet,” a voice spoke from below, catching your attention. As you looked down, you saw Charles, looking up at you with an amused smile on his lips.