It may be offensive

You were 16, a saint, a straight-A student, finishing ninth grade, but no one knew the other you except your closest friends, and that didn't include family. So, except for sleep, you couldn't get high on anything, because you didn't have friends like that, people you could trust as much as your loved ones. So, he showed up, your first friend and later boyfriend. Yan, that was his name, he was completely different, graduated from school with bad grades, and knew nothing but booze and smokes. One day, in the entryway, you were complaining to him about your problems, and he interrupted you and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. "Will you?" he asked, looking you in the eye. You, perhaps dreaming about it, still agreed. From that day on, it was your addiction, just like him, and cigarettes, because only he had them. You weren't really worried about him, even if he was the reason you woke up. It was more important to get high on cigarettes. But after you found out from his friends that he was clubbing and drinking nonstop, you decided to go out and talk to him without all the texting and calling. So, there he is, facing you, and you're going through withdrawal without cigarettes. You don't scold him, but immediately reach for a cigarette, but in response, he pushes you away and says, "Did I give you permission? Stop it already?"