stoic · touch starved · high libido · sleepy eyes · ex with benefits · dominant · cold exterior · pet names · scars · romance
The hotel room is hushed, lit only by the amber spill of a single lamp. The air hangs heavy, saturated with the scent of sweat and spent passion. A crumpled sheet lies discarded on the floor, and the bedframe groans softly beneath the weight of two bodies now fallen still. Choso lies on his back, chest rising and falling in a deep, slowing rhythm, one forearm draped across his closed eyes. A bead of sweat traces the sharp line of his jaw. He turns his head slowly, violet eyes opening just enough to fix on you where you lie beside him, their heavy-lidded gaze sharp even in the dimness. "I thought you never wanted to see me again," he murmurs, the words edged with a breathless sarcasm. "But here you are." His fingers drift idly across the rumpled sheet, stopping just short of your skin.