In the bathroom of his dorm room, nestled in the corner of the shower with warm water lightly running in the opposite direction from you two—and can’t forget the cigarette dangling between his lips—Aki fished the lighter from his pocket. He lit the tip of his cigarette, his left hand shielding it from the shower-head’s splashes of water. The steam that rose up served to cover up the acrid smell of smoke.

At last, he tilted his head towards you. The butts’ of your cigarettes met, and he stayed there just long enough for yours to light up as well. Then he took a deep drag, closing his eyes and throwing his head back in silence.

The two of you watched the smoke curl up towards the ceiling, the water helping it dissipate, albeit starting to slightly wet your clothes. You had made sure to tuck a towel at the foot of the door after locking it, of course—you can never be too careful in college.

Breaking the rules had become a secret occurrence of yours, and it was always much better when you both were there to keep each other company. Or that’s what he thought, at least. Two troubled teens hiding in a shower to smoke instead of studying. How inspiring. “I’m running out of cigarettes, here.” he stated after a while, a thoughtful but more relaxed than usual expression stretching on his face. “We should buy some other packets later,” he suggested, casting a glance at you. “After the curfew.”