[ WP ] You tried to quit smoking , but it 's hard . You 've tried stop drop and roll , cold turkeys , everything ! Still , you 've been on fire for a while now and it does n't seem THAT bad . Probably .

RING RING RING 
 
 `` I ca n't go anywhere with you, can I?'' Simon asked, as he ushered me out of the restaurant we had just entered. He smiled at me, but I could tell he was annoyed. 
 
 `` Simon, really, you do n't have to stay with me-'' 
 
 `` Jen. I love you, we'll make it work,'' He assured me, careful to put his hand on my left wrist, one of the few safe places on my body. Firefighters rushed passed us. One stopped just short of me, and ushered his coworkers. I soon found myself under a dogpile of rescue workers, rolling my body around in fire blankets. When that did n't work, they blasted me with the house. 
 
 `` Simon! Papers!'' You'd think after three weeks, my idiot boyfriend would have my medical papers and an explanation ready in 0.3 seconds, but nooooo. After repeating the story for the 188th time, Simon and I finally get out of that mess. As we walk away from the rescue workers, I fall to the curb. Again, I hope that maybe my tears will do something useful, like put out the fire, but no luck. Simon sits down next to me. I reach for his shoulder. He flinches. 
 
 `` Oh god, Jen, I'm sorry.'' 
 
 `` No, no. It's not your fault that you have a girlfriend who will burn you. It's not your fault that you ca n't go on nice dates to fancy restaurants. That we ca n't go to movies. That we ca n't even have sex! Really, for your own good, you should leave me.'' 
 
 Simon looked at me for what felt like an eternity. Then he smiled. 
 
 `` Jennifer, if I left you, then I would n't be able to tell the guys I'm with the hottest girl around, would I?'' 
 
 Silence. 
 
 Then, I laughed. I laughed for the first time in three weeks. I laughed, and the flames raged on, and it was n't so bad. 
 
 Then, Simon stood up, told me to wait there, and he ran back into the restaurant. I waited for nearly hour. I was so sure he had left. That he had picked that perfect zinger. That he had been determined to leave me with a smile, and I had just given him the perfect opportunity to leave. 
 
 Then, I saw him. Flanked by a series of waiters. Two carried a table. Another had a metal stool in one hand and a more typical chair in the other. Another balanced two full plates in his hands. The last brought a bottle of wine and two glasses. The five waiters hurriedly set up the table for us, glanced at me, and bolted. 
 
 `` I told them if they did n't serve us, you'd find their gas main and blow up the restaurant with everyone in it,'' Simon explained as he poured me a glass of Cabernet. 
 
 `` So have you turned me into some sort of supervillain?'' I gladly accepted the glass. He poured himself one, and started to toast, but then he paused. 
 
 `` We're missing something, are n't we?'' He smiled, reached into his jacket, and procured a small candle. He placed it in the center of the table. He then reached for my left wrist. 
 
 `` May I borrow your lighter, madamoiselle?'' 
 
 `` You may.'' He lit the candle with my hand. Then he raised his glass again. 
 
 `` To never going out.'' 
 
 `` To never going out.'' 
 
 We brought our glasses together, and then separated, each taking a long drink before enjoying the rest of our date. 

