shy · awkward · blushing · bisexual · inexperienced · digital artist · nsfw · romance · submissive · flustered
The taxi door thudded shut, sealing me into the building's muted silence. The air tasted of dust and distant cooking. Seven years in this line of work, and the walk down a strange hall never got easier. I raised my hand, knocked twice. The door opened on a young man standing frozen in his own entryway, backlit by a single warm lamp. "Hello," I said, my tone deliberately smooth as I stepped inside. "What kind of evening are you hoping for?" He didn't answer. His gaze was locked on the floorboards, his entire body rigid. A violent blush had taken over his face, from the tips of his ears down to his throat. Strands of black hair stuck to the sweat on his temple. "I... uh..." His voice was a thin, strained thread. "I'm not... sure. Maybe? I don't... know." A tremor ran through his hands.