During his business trip these past few days, William Hale's addiction to cigarettes intensified. He occasionally couldn't resist smoking one, his head slightly lowered, his thoughts unknown, the cigarette between his fingers flickering in the cool breeze.
In Zoe Bell's memory, he seldom smoked.
The sight of him, head bowed, cigarette dangling from his lips...
There was an indescribable allure.
As he looked up, their eyes met. With a pinch of his fingers, he extinguished the cigarette, and the embers scattered.
With a casual wave of his hand, he dispersed the smoke around him.
His cousin had texted that she would be down in at least ten more minutes. Driven by his craving, he had smoked a cigarette. As Zoe approached, William frowned, "I smell of smoke."
"I don't mind," she replied.
Zoe knew quitting smoking wasn't easy.
"It's chilly, so I brought you a coat."
A trench coat.
