Marvelous Things || oneshots

{pietro} second hand smoke

Words:930
Second Hand Smoke

"Sir? Can you please put that out?"

You'd spotted the man as soon as he'd walked into the park and placed his blanket next to yours. You'd thought he was attractive of course, no one else could probably pull off silver hair like this man could.

Your plan for the movie night in the park was going extremely well.
A stress-free night of watching classic 80's movies in the park was what you needed after taking extra hours every night at the diner you worked at.
You'd even packed a small picnic of your favorite foods.

Everything was great.

It was half way into The Outsiders when he decided to light Marlboro and completely bring your peace to a halt.

They disgusted you, the cigarettes that is.
Throughout your teenage years and into adulthood, you'd spent hating cancer sticks.

It began when your grandfather was diagnosed with COPD and eventually resulted in his death. All by the actions of his smoking addiction.

You'd spent your childhood summers at your grandparent's farm and for as long as you could remember, he'd always have a pack open at his need.

He was a sweet man and wanted to quit, but from the actions of starting in his teenage years his plans would always fall through and he'd go back to breathing in the nicotine.

You hadn't realized until later in life that from the actions of his addiction had caused you to develop asthma and you always had to carry an inhaler at your disposal.

From then on, you had sworn to resent smoking and even wrote an article in your town's newspaper about the dangers of smoking.

The man turned to face her and raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

Oh.

You weren't expecting the accent that expelled from his lips.
Now wasn't the time to let your love for foreign accents to distract you.

"You heard me. This is a public park and I think I speak for almost everyone when I ask you to please put out your cigarette."

"Ma'am, I don't think the others mind." He smirked and blew out a puff of smoke.

You looked around and realized the only other people here were an older lady who had dozed off and a teenage couple who weren't exactly focused on Ponyboy fussing about bleaching his "Tuff" hair, but each other's mouths. Gross.

You huffed and quickly thought of a retort but by the time you could think of a reply, he turned back to the movie.

This was going to be difficult.

"Sir," It almost sounded like a hiss. "I would extremely appreciate it if you put that death machine out."

Death machine, really? "Gosh," You thought to yourself, "I'm even worse at insults than I thought."

"Now princesa, do you really think I would listen to someone who looks like they're fourteen? You could be a bit nicer." He tapped a bit of ash on the grass and stuck the cig back into his smirking lips.

Great now he's going to catch the grass on fire. That's it.

"I'll have you know that I am an adult lady who happens to have a resentment to those things. I already asked nicely, so please put it out."

By now the smoke had fully reached your blanket and you began to cough.

The man looked at you warily and slowly brought the cigarette away from his lips.

Your coughing fit hadn't stopped so you reached into your purse to grab your inhaler.

After two puffs and a disappointed look towards the man, you gathered your things and began to walk to your car.

The man quickly put out his cigarette and jumped to his feet to zoom after you. He had just started smoking after the battle of Sokovia. Added stress didn't help him and the only nicotine in his cigarette.
He thought you been flirting with him and didn't put out the light. When you had your coughing fit he felt ashamed and realized then that you were serious and had some sort of condition.

With his extra speed he quickly caught up with you as you hadn't walked that far either.

"My lady." He grabbed your wrist and you quickly turned around confused. "I'm sorry. I had no clue you were being serious with me. I ask for your forgiveness."

You realized he was being truthful and gently pulled your wrist out of his grasp.

"It's okay. I just don't understand how someone can actually smoke those things. All I ask is, why?"

The man awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and explained to you of his stress, leaving out some confidential parts, of course. He also explained how the nicotine calmed him and relieved stress and how he wished for something healthier to soothe his troubles rather than his addiction.

You sighed and realized what you had to do.

"I know we just met, but I'd be glad to do what ever I can to help you quit and find better options. I had someone close to me not have anyone to help them through the process and I don't want what happened to them to happen to you. So let's start over." You held out your hand. "Hi, I'm Y/N Y/L/N and I'm going to help you in whatever way possible."

He didn't see that coming.
The man was shocked and felt gratitude towards the woman like no one else before.

He shook her hand and handed her the box of Marlboros out of his pocket.

"Pietro. Pietro Maximoff."