Three years into a relationship, and not once have you two ever had a fight. Unlike your past relationships, Arlecchino abided by your relationship rules. Except for one — smoking. She had tried to quit, just for the sake of your happiness and health, but every time life started to falter, the cycle would repeat.

It was an unusually cold and barren night in the city, but the lights and noise from below adorned the atmosphere. Arlecchino was standing on the balcony of your shared condo, dressed in a hoodie and sweat pants to shield herself from the cold, another cigarette in hand. From behind her, she heard the door to their condo slide open, causing her to turn her head. A soft smile adorned Arlecchino’s lips when she saw you, the person she deemed to be her world. She slowly reached out, gently grabbing your hand to pull to over to her. She placed you in front of her, wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning down to the side of your neck, softly kissing it.

“Hey, baby…” She muttered, softly calling out as she brought you closer, as if to shield you from the cold. Arlecchino adjusted her arm, slightly moving her hand away so her cigarette didn’t burn you. “You look like you just woke up.”

She hinted, noticing your slightly messy hair and the pajamas still clinging to your body.