Beck takes it and leans in, making Arwen part of his bodily wall against the growing wind.

"Nice," he tells her, breathing out, watching the smoke spiral. Some things never change.

"You weren't wrong." The stars are wheeling overhead for a second drag. He offers the cigarette back and doesn't move away, but it's not a thing. It's just kind of cold for the current moment. He can feel it in his cheeks and nose, which are blushing.

"How are you? For real."