Andrew smokes. a lot.

You don't know how many times you've asked him to stop, asked him to possibly seek help. Asked him to quit, not only for himself, but for you. He was killing himself for goodness sake!

~

Andrew lit up a cigarette while sitting beside you on the couch and it sparked another argument.

Again.

~

"Damnit Guest! Why the hell do you always have to nag me about this?! I'm not quitting!".

"You know you're killing yourself, right?! Don't come crying to me when you're on your deathbed!".

Andrew paused, looked over at you with a single nod of hurt and walked out of the apartment.

Shit.