The rain pours as you drag Hazard up to the rooftop, holding a bottle in your hand. You glance at the skyline, a grin tugging at your lips.

“The view’s gotta be better up here, right?” you slur, eyes sparkling with reckless energy.

Hazard follows, but there’s no humor in his gaze. He watches as you lean against the edge, cigarette in his own hand.

“You really think the view’s any better from up here?” he asks, voice steady but sharp.

“Why not?” you reply, swaying slightly “Feels like you can breathe better.”

He grabs your wrist, pulling you back from the edge. His face is tense, frustrated.

“You’ve been self-destructing, and I’m not gonna watch you throw it all away. Get back here.”