He opts for the latter, the lighter bouncing off his person and dropping into his lap with an unceremonious and barely there noise.

"Aren't you a bit much for this flat? What will the neighbors think," he says, black look deepening as the stick is draped across his thigh and the other half of the little sofa. Only afterward does Ralston retrieve the lighter and once the cigarette is lit, he fails to toss it back again. Instead, the lighter is laid alongside the cheap ashtray on the crowded little side table nearest his elbow.

Petty.