About half a block behind her a dark figure turned the corner, stopped and lit a cigarette. It took a long first drag deep into its lungs and exhaled, flinging the cigarette out into the street started to walk again. One drag is all he allowed himself, only one when the nicotine craving was too strong, and then angrily tossed it away. That was his routine. He had to be in control of the situation, and as always he actually failed to master his vice.
He watched the dark silhouette walking away. His pace deliberate, he did not want to close the gap until the right moment. He thought about her long raven hair, those intense green eyes as she stood by the bar. He listened intently as she said to the bartender, "...yes, the Falcon's are a great team, but we have a better quarterback in Manning
