[there is indeed a lighter tucked into one of suguru's pockets—along with a (mostly) fresh carton of smokes. shoko's preferred brand, of course. she was the one to introduce them to him, all those years ago—and while he hasn't made a habit of them (not a regular one, anyway), there's something about the familiar weight of them? the knowledge that they're there, if he ever needs to reach for something as opposed to someone.
...but here they are again? or, more accurately: here he is. alas.]
Bringing you dinner isn't enough? And alcohol. Maybe.
no subject
...but here they are again? or, more accurately: here he is. alas.]
Bringing you dinner isn't enough?
And alcohol. Maybe.
[not that he's going to fold them, but you know.]