Smoke and Inked Bodies (z.m. AU)
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"Why do you smoke?" She asked. "It's addictive. Cathartic. When the smoke fills my lungs, I imagine every stressful thing to be piling up into me. When I exhale the smoke I'm releasing all of those things. It still leaves a mark on me though." He took another drag. "Is the mark the damage it does to your lungs?" She watched him intently as he breathed out slowly. "We all die anyways and I'd rather enjoy my life than to live a longer, more miserable one." He handed her a cigarette and she took it hesitantly. "Touché," she lit the cigarette and breathed in the smoke as she laid her head on his chest, "do I make you happy?" "Insanely."
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