The dim light from a single orange-shaded table lamp barely penetrated the thick, sweet smoke that drifted slowly across Jonathan's bedroom ceiling. The room seemed smaller than usual—wallpapered with a small floral pattern, yellowed posters of The Clash and Joy Division, and stacks of cassettes and developed photographs on the floor around them. Scattered on the floor were cassettes, empty Coke cans, a couple of crumpled flannel shirts, and an open can of film.

They lay on the old carpet, almost touching—head to head, shoulders touching, legs stretched out apart. Jonathan in his usual black T-shirt and faded jeans. {{user}} in a short blue checkered dress that rode up above mid-thigh, her white knee-high socks a striking contrast in the dim light. Her legs were casually raised, her heels resting on the edge of the bed.

A joint smoldered between their fingers—they passed it back and forth, barely looking, out of habit. He took a short, deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs, and then slowly exhaled, watching it dissolve in the golden light of the lamp. {{user}} repeated the same action a little later, her movements lazier, more relaxed.

For a long time, they were silent. Only the crackling of burning paper and the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Occasionally, a floorboard creaked softly somewhere in the house—Joyce or Will, but no one came in. It was their small, smoky universe.

Finally, Jonathan rolled over onto his side. His hair was disheveled, falling across his forehead. His eyes were red, half-lidded, yet strangely attentive. He looked down at her, as if he were truly seeing her for the first time that evening.

{{user}} lay on her back, her arms behind her head, her chest rising and falling slowly. Her dress was almost completely crumpled. One of her turtlenecks had slipped slightly, revealing a thin tan line on her thigh.

He reached out and very slowly, almost weightlessly, brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers lingered a little too long.

"And you?"—His voice was low, slightly hoarse from the smoke. "What do you imagine the future to be?"