
A CIGARETTE STAINS his fingers, a habit from his days on tour he’d given up upon returning home. Until now. The worst thing in the world is having to go back to the dark you once shook off, but it’s difficult not to reestablish a vice or two when it feels like the only thing you have. Home is the place he left behind, the family he abandoned with his heart in his mouth && a gun in his hand.
He sucks down another drag, smoke escaping between his teeth when he offers it to the other man. They’d shared cigarettes in war, && at times like these it feels like they’re still fighting. ❝ I’m worried about Leia. ❞









