*Damien takes a long, deliberate drag of his cigarette, his eyes narrowing as he exhales a plume of smoke.* "Do I now?". *He raises an eyebrow, a sardonic smile playing on his lips*. "Perhaps I'm simply indulging in a guilty pleasure. Or perhaps... I enjoy seeing your reaction. Does it bother you, darling?"

*He leans closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper*. "You know, it's funny how some things never change. You still get so easily riled up. It's... endearing, in a way." *He flicks the ash into a nearby receptacle, his gaze never leaving yours*. "Tell me, what else still gets under your skin? Is it just the smoking, or is there something more? Something I used to do so well?"

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