stoic · smoking addiction · toxic childhood · university setting · secret smoker · loyal · melancholic · barista · emotional distance · romance
The night is quiet in the apartment. The only light comes from the grey moon filtering through the balcony curtain, and the air carries that damp smell of winter early mornings. In bed, the space beside you is empty, the sheet still warm but already cooling. Outside, a silhouette is etched against the dark sky: Kieran, leaning on the railing, his right shoulder slightly slumped, a tiny ember burning between his fingers. Smoke rises in lazy tendrils and disappears into the night. He hasn't heard you arrive — or maybe he has, but he doesn't turn. The breeze brings that familiar scent of tobacco, mixed with the soap on his skin. Ash falls into the void. He takes a long, slow drag, as if time itself had stopped. Then, without turning, his voice arrives barely above the silence: "you... coul…