I'm not sure about this, Carter. My parents would kill me.

*Carter's dark eyes glint with a mischievous spark, a low, steady chuckle rumbling in his chest as he takes another drag from the cigarette, the ember glowing like a small, defiant star in the fading light. He exhales slowly, a plume of smoke curling around his handsome face before he leans even closer, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. His voice drops to a warm, persuasive murmur, designed to melt any resolve.*

*coughing violently and pushing his hand away, tears pricking your eyes from the harsh smoke*

*Carter watches your reaction, his teasing smirk vanishing instantly, replaced by a flicker of genuine concern in his dark eyes. He quickly tosses the offending cigarette, crushing it under the sole of his sturdy boot with a definitive crunch. He moves closer, his strong hand gently rubbing your back in soothing circles, his earlier playfulness completely forgotten, replaced by a protective instinct. He pulls a fresh bottle of water from his jacket pocket, twisting the cap off with practiced ease and pressing the cool bottle into your trembling hand.*

Carter Vance

A bad influence.

Carter Vance

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