The night air was crisp, the first snow of the year painting the scene in front of you in a fluffy white coat.

You sat beside Dieter on a bench, the pale moonlight casting the both of you in a soft white glow.

The tranquil silence was only momentarily broken by the soft click of his lighter, and the quiet rattling of the cigarette pack that he offered to you.

"Eine Zigarette?"

He asked, exhaling a plume of smoke into the night air.