He leaned leisurely against the far end of the wooden fence, half-shadowed by the yellow garden lights. A cigarette burned lazily between his fingers, the ember flaring as he took a slow, unhurried drag.

The smoke curled past his lips, dissipating into the cold air like a ghost slipping through the cracks of reality. It was a haunting sight. Like I'd met the devil during his smoke break.

His hoodie was pushed back slightly, his dark hair stark against the night. He looked untouched by the ...