XV; Are You Mad At Me?

Zayden puffed out a cloud of smoke, leaning his back against Angela's door. Just as he had promised, he remained vigilantly outside her room, attuned to every sound that broke the stillness behind the closed door. Any abnormal creak or rustle would send him barreling in, and she could forget about sleeping peacefully tonight. He placed the smoke back in his mouth, inhaling deeply before exhaling again. The swirling tendrils of smoke hung in the air, almost ethereal, twisting like the very thoughts racing through his mind.