Heather probably should have felt a little guilty about the fact that Cassidy had picked up smoking from her, but on the other hand, she'd picked up the habit of blowing things up from him, so it was really a fair trade off. Sort of. She watched him inhale the smoke with a smirk, then laughed a little when he choked a second later. "You get used to it," she said, giving his shoulder a gentle swat.
"Yeah, it's so badass to not have eyebrows," she said with another laugh, though she fell silent as she watched the gasoline puddle going up in flames. There was something incredibly relaxing and comforting about watching the fire, and it was a bit ironic, really. She still had those memories of Alessa's, of being burned alive.
Coming back to reality, Heather followed Cassidy as he sat down on the ground, lowering herself down next to him and leaning into his side rather comfortably, using him as a bit of a pillow. It was weird, but she felt completely at ease around him. He was really the closest thing she had to a best friend, and she didn't even know him that long. She didn't like to overthink it too much. She was just thankful for it.
"Like what?" she asked, taking another swig of her beer. "Dynamite? Jesus, Cassidy, you're turning me into a frickin' pyromaniac, here."