Roommates With The Bad Boy

"What advantages does smoking give you?" I asked, my tone engulfed in seriousness. In all honestly, I knew it would just lead to lung cancer. That means he would die. Do you know how many people I have seen die, just leave this earth without a proper goodbye. And here he is, thinking it's what, cool? God, I wish people could just understand the things they're putting their friends and family in when they do stupid shit like that.
"When I was about fourteen, my old man said to me, ' Kylan, smokin' is what's gonna make you a man. 'S what's gonna make you into something different, Instead of that small excuse for a boy' he thought I was weak and I agreed." He paused and I waited. " When he died, I remember his last words were, 'Boy...You still ain't no man'" their were tears in his eyes by then, but he didn't let them fall. "Ever since then, I just can't put down the cancer sticks."
I felt my arm twitch and involuntarily reach for his shoulder. My hand fit so well on his warm skin. "I think you're perfect. You don't need this." I felt my voice becoming quieter as I reach up and softly pluck the cigarette that dangled from his lips, to the concrete floor. He looked at me and a warm feeling grew in my chest.