but there's more

He shrugged. He held the cigarette out in front of him and they watched it burn, a single ember in the heavy, humid night.
"I thought it would make me look..." He tapped the cigarette and flakes of ash fluttered to the ground.
She knew she was meant to finish the thought but she smiled instead.
"Well, it doesn't," she said petulantly, stepping closer and setting her wrists onto his shoulders, her fingers brushing against the back of his neck as they knitted together. They looked at each other for a moment. He crushed the lit end of the cigarette into the potted plant to his left.
"You know, smoking's bad for you." Her hands slid along the sides of his neck until she cupped his delicate jaw in her palms. She tilted his face up towards hers.
"Lots of things are bad for you," he murmured. The air around them lost its dampness and crackled.