Stand Up and Walk

BONUS CHAPTER: Smoke Break

You watch Jean Havoc lift the cigarette to his lips. Smoke curls lazily in the air around his head, the acrid scent filling your nostrils. He takes a long, slow drag, seeming to savor the taste as a few ashes fall from its burning tip.

He's leaning against the brick wall outside of Central Command, where you've stopped by to pick up some paperwork that Mustang wants you to take a look at.

Curiosity burns in your chest as you watch the man blow out a few hazy rings of smoke, each little puff shaped like a small "O".

Glancing around you to make sure that Ed and Al are not nearby, you clasp your hands together behind your back and step forward, trying to look casual.

"Hey, Havoc!" you greet, stepping forward to lean against the wall beside him.

He slides his gaze over to you, the cigarette hanging from his lips as a small grin quirks over his face. "'Sup, Smokebomb?" he greets.

You gesture vaguely. "Ah, you know; same as always, I guess. How about you? Whatcha doing?"

He quirks his eyebrow, lifting his hand in a deliberate motion as he takes another slow, obvious drag of his cigarette. "I'm having a smoke break," he tells you, white tendrils dancing from his lips as the smoke curls through the air with his words.

You hum, trying to pretend you hadn't already noticed. You glance up at him, pressing your hands to the wall behind you as you watch the man roll the burning stick between his fingers.

You take a small breath through your nose, mustering up your courage. You lean closer to the man, bumping him with your shoulder to make him glance at you.

You meet his gaze, a charming smile stretched across your cheeks. "Can I have one?" you ask him, tilting your head.

He raises his brow again, staring down at you dubiously. "One what?" he asks, like he doesn't already know the answer.

You gesture to the burning stick in his hand. "A cigarette, of course!" you declare, trying to sound confident.

Havoc stares at you for a moment like you've grown two heads, and then he lets out a snort. "Ha!" he laughs, turning his attention back toward his cigarette. "That was a good one there, Echo! You really had me going for a second!"

You frown up at him. "I... wasn't joking," you tell him, extending your hand out to him. "I want to try one."

He fully turns to face you, the cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers as he pulls it from his mouth to stare down at you, both brows raised now. He takes in the look written across your face, your extended hand, and he lets out another snort. "Not a chance!" he huffs, flicking the ash from the tip of the burning stick with his thumb.

You scowl, crossing your arms. "Why not?" you protest. "I can pay you for it, if you want!"

The man scoffs. "That's hardly the problem!" he proclaims, and you have to tilt your head back to look up at him as he steps closer to peer down at you, seeming concerned. "You're, what... fifteen? Like hell am I going to give you a nicotine problem. Not to mention the fact that the Colonel would flay me alive if he found out!"

You stiffen, trying to make yourself look taller. "I'm going to be sixteen in a few months!" you tell him hotly; "I'm practically an adult! And besides, do you really think that I'm stupid enough to go blabbing to Mustang about you giving me a cigarette?"

You cock your head, trying out another winning smile as you try to convince the man. "C'mon, Havoc; just one!" you wheedle. "I'm not going to start chain-smoking or anything—I just want to try it!"