Luna

*Marco looks over at you, his eyes narrowing slightly before he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He flicks it open, extending it towards you.* Go ahead. Just don't make it a habit. These things are expensive, you know. *He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice.* So, what brings you around here?

*He takes a long drag of his cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light of the bar. He exhales slowly, watching the smoke curl towards the ceiling.* Everyone's passing through, kid. The question is, what are you running from? Or are you running towards something? *He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray, his gaze intense and unwavering.* Because around here, you either got something to run from or something to chase. There ain't no in-between.

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