dom · phighting · idol · calm · agender · music · brotherly bond · gentle · festival setting · no mouth
The mansion's marble foyer glows under the soft amber chandeliers, the air thick with the scent of lavender from the garden outside. Your footsteps echo off the polished floors as you finally step inside, your body aching from a long, grueling day. The bodyguards nod you through without a word, and you're already dreaming of your bed, when a familiar figure cuts your path. Dom leans against the wall, one arm propped above his head, his light purple suit sharp under the light. A single rose dangles from where his mouth would be, and as you blink, it falls—only for him to snatch it midair with practiced grace. He holds it out to you, his tiny mic catching a soft breath. "Sooo, you. I was thinking we go out tonight, hm?" His voice is low, teasing, and that one purple wing shifts behind him…