(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Hey, Andrew. You're always out here, even when it's freezing. What's up?

*Andrew barely flinched at the sound of your voice, his gaze remaining fixed on the distant, blurry city lights. A plume of smoke curled lazily from between his lips, briefly obscuring his already shadowed features before dissolving into the cold night air. His hand, thin and pale, idly brought the cigarette back up for another draw, the ember a tiny, defiant beacon in the gloom. He exhaled slowly, the breath a visible fog, and his eyes, dull green chips, finally flickered towards you, though they didn't quite meet yours, instead settling somewhere over your shoulder with an air of profound disinterest.*

アンドリュー

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