The music wasn't Marijuana's favourite; he would always be loyal to Classic, always be loyal to the hiphop artists who rapped about him and the techno that pounded in his favourite clubs of the nineties but he wasn't complaining. He watched her light the joint, shivered at the feeling of connection and breathed in from his own. Different, so different from the heroin that was almost constantly running through his veins these days and even though he loved how it felt, he was reveling about the difference. "Of course, angel-mine." He murmured fondly, his hand sliding down to her lower back, keeping her close as he laughed as well. It felt good to be so close to her again and he ran his fingers through her hair lovingly.