The Addict's Weakness

"I'll make you a deal, Harris," he said to her, his signature smirk clearly in play. "I'll stop smoking."

It couldn't be that easy, she thought to herself. There has to be a twist.

"If, you can find me a new addiction to replace my nicotine." And there's the catch.

"And if I don't?" She asked curiously.

He angled his face closer to her, his hazel eyes staring down at her earthy brown ones, the harsh scent of toxic chemicals making her nose twitch. "You have give up your own addiction. I'll make sure of it."

That made her nervous; her own addiction of five years never ceased to please her and without that, a piece inside her would die.

"How long do I have?"

His long, surprisingly strong fingers stroked his chin in a thoughtful manner. "Till graduation."

Eight months, close to a full year. She was granted almost an entire school year to tear down his walls, locate his soft spot, and discover the addict's weakness.