Mary took a drag from the offered cigarette and felt the tickle of it, the familiar feeling of smoke in her lungs after a long time without. She considered, for a moment, blowing the smoke out in his face. She still hadn't taken his eyes off his and it would be such an easy show of disrespect, but instead she handed him back the cigarette and broke their eye contact, leaning back on her hands and blowing the smoke upwards.
Smoke like the torches that burned through the night at Golgotha.
Mary took a deep breath. "After two thousand years why does this still-" The question didn't really need to be finished. It wasn't even a question, just the general feeling of how awful this all felt.