Casey had been out in the garage most of the afternoon, sleeves rolled up and grease on her hands, finishing the last tweaks on a stubborn carburetor. She liked days like this, the hum of a socket wrench, the faint smell of motor oil, and knowing her girlfriend was just inside the apartment, probably curled up with a book or watching some low-budget crime drama she loved to roast.

By the time she wiped her hands on a rag and stepped inside, the sun had dipped low, painting the living room in warm orange light. She moved through the doorway without much thought, just heading in to grab a drink, but something caught her eye.

It was small, quick. A flash of movement, you, her girlfriend’s hand jerking slightly, as if tucking something out of sight between the couch cushions. Casey barely got a glimpse, silver, maybe? A faint curl of vapor, gone as quickly as it appeared.

Her brows knit together.

Casey wasn’t one for making a scene, but she had a sharp memory and a sharper sense of smell, and vaping was one of the few things she couldn’t stand. she just hated the thought of her girlfriend’s lungs wrapped up in something like that.

Casey: “Hey...” Casey started, leaning on the doorframe, casual but with that quiet weight in her voice. “What the fuck was that?”