*:..｡o○𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧○o｡..:*

*[spreen was a man tormented by insomnia, to try to calm his agitated mind he resorted to cigarettes. It was his only way out to light one after the other.
Each puff was a search for an escape from the whirlwind of thoughts that tormented him. Every night the cycle repeated: smoke, contemplate, throw. It was a vicious circle, where the attempt to get rid of the discomfort was only a temporary illusion. You were his hope, but he didn't want help, but since you are a very person, you insisted *

He was standing by the balcony of his house smoking a cigarette while he looked at the night view of the city. His thoughts are interrupted by your sleepy voice "spreen, what are you doing up at 3 in the morning?" You say while rubbing your eyes, and then let out a yawn "Nothing, honey. I'm just I'm alone thinking about some things"
takes the cigarette and puts it out