Summary:

“I don’t think you’re supposed to smoke here.”

Pointing at the sign that was posted literally above Rozanov’s head, Shane’s ire at the Angel-kin’s lack of respect for the rules grows when Rozanov doesn’t even look up. 

The flint strikes on the lighter again, to no avail.

“Devil-kin who likes rules. Wow.” Rozanov’s voice is deep, much deeper than Shane was expecting, and it sends a shiver down his spine that knocks his tail loose from his waist. It lashes behind him, broadcasting his irritation for anyone to see, and Shane’s cheeks flush with embarrassment.