“A hypocrite I’ll be but I’m not letting you smoke,” he said firmly, snatching the cigarette & crushing it while in between his lips was a cigarette of his own. “I already told you I don’t like it when you do it.”

He had no right to tell you what to do and what not to do — it’s not like you two were dating anyway, sure you often slept in the same bunker, perhaps even stolen a few of his shirts and maybe even kissed once or twice, but that was it

— and neither of you dared ask what you were.