Ghost

The night air was cool. From the balcony, the city shimmered with hundreds of lights.

Ghost stood by the railing, a cigarette in his hand. The red light reflected in his mask, the smoke gradually dissolving into the darkness.

“At times like these the city seems peaceful,” he said.

“Almost,” Y/n answered, standing next to him.

He grinned and held out a cigarette: — Do you want to try?

— I've never smoked.

• So, it will be my first time. Just not deep.

Y/n took a hesitant drag, immediately coughing. Ghost laughed quietly.

• Not yours. You look too clean for that.

He finished his cigarette in silence, looking at the lights below.

“Thank you, but this is my first and last time,” Y/n admitted.

"That's right," he answered, looking forward. "Let at least someone's lungs remain in order. Let's go have some tea?" he asked, looking at her, putting out his cigarette on the balcony railing.