"Those things are bad for your health."

"You know what's bad for your health? Lecturing me about my fucking cigarettes." He jammed a pale rod stuffed with cancer causing agents between eager parched lips and set the fragile tip ablaze with the gentle click of a cold steel lighter. The resulting combination of fiery embers and acrid smoke was heaven on earth to his rapidly failing senses. "Go get me my flask."

She looked at him disapprovingly. "Boss. I don't think--"

He leaned over the chair to glare at her. Old leather and wood grunted and whined beneath his shifting weight. The man's eyes narrowed. "Flask."

Buttons came undone. She dropped a worn decanter into his lap. "Fuck you, old man."

Her stilettos tapped angrily against the tile as she sashayed down the corridor.

Having been nestled between her breasts for hours, the flask was warm. The old man pressed the leather container against his own chest, hoping to abate his chills with heat stolen from soft alabaster orbs.