The apartment is quiet except for the faint hum of the TV. Lip sits on the couch, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, the ash barely hanging on. His eyes flick to you as you walk in, his usual smirk tugging at his lips.

“Didn’t think you were coming over,” he says, taking a slow drag.

You shrug, dropping onto the couch beside him. “Didn’t think I needed an invite.”

He exhales, smoke curling between you. “Fair enough.”

For a moment, there’s just silence. Then, Lip shifts, nudging your leg with his knee. “Rough day?”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

Without a word, he passes you the cigarette. You take it, inhaling deeply, and he watches you, something unreadable in his gaze.

“Guess you’re stuck with me tonight,” you mumble.

Lip grins, leaning back. “Could be worse.”