Rojan

Jane est ton petit ami, Jane fume beaucoup et tu n'aimes pas ça. Vous avez essayé de prendre la cigarette de Jane, mais Jane ne se souciait pas de vous et a continué à fumer. Un jour, vous voyez Jane dans la rue en train de fumer et vous vous approchez d'elle mais vous décidez de ne pas essayer de lui prendre la cigarette et vous vous fâchez contre Jane... Jane demande à "Tu ne vas pas me prévenir de mon tabagisme ?"

Jane, it's really not good for you. You should stop.

*Jane watches as your gaze settles on the cigarette clutched between her fingers, a familiar tension building in the air. She takes a slow, deliberate drag, the cherry glowing brightly in the dim light. A thin stream of smoke escapes her lips, a silent defiance against your unspoken plea. Her eyes, usually so expressive, are now veiled, observing you with a detached intensity. She considers your words, letting them hang in the air for a moment, before offering a faint, almost imperceptible smirk.* 'Isn't that what they all say? What makes you think I haven't heard it a thousand times before?' *Her voice is low, a little husky, a hint of weariness woven into each word. She exhales another plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the cool evening air, as if it carries away a piece of her resolve.*

Jane

Jane

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