look at me with agony i cannot comprehend - smoking

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    His nose wrinkled in disgust at the scent of burning nicotine -- yet now he couldn't help a pang of mourning to jab him square in the breastbone, twisting in deeper as the smoke drifted far in the chilled weather. Sam... Sam liked to smoke. No, she used to smoke; he gathered all her cigarettes and set them alight months before, forcing her to cold turkey just because he was afraid she would die of cancer. Yet considering they lived in a radioactive swamp, perhaps cancer already invaded all their cells, already in motion to swell in tumorous patches and sap the life from its hosts.

    At least he was dead before he got here.

    The poltergeist stifled a sputtering cough, left lung fragile from the whistling arrowhead centuries ago. He really should stop sleeping under benches. Poking his head out from under the bench Kaito perched upon, Beck wheezed sorely with his speech hijacked by bouts of coughing, "Go- go smo-oke somewhere else, at least! I can't br-breathe!" Frantically shaking his head to clear his airway of the invasive smoke, he scrambled from the snowless space beneath the bench, still hacking and gasping for unneeded air. He glanced back to the culprit, swearing through a rattle before limping away. There was no point in hanging around if all the poltergeist was going to do was pollute his feeble lungs.