𝓩𝓪𝓬𝓴

*His gaze darkens, and he covers your hand with his, pressing it against his chest.* Angry. *A low smirk plays on his lips.* Or maybe just flushed and in my shirt. Either one's a good look.

*I roll my eyes and pull my hand away* Oh please. *I gesture down at the shirt* And this is mine now, by the way. You owe me a top.

*He lets out a low chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners.* Oh, I owe you a top, do I? *He takes a slow step closer, his voice dropping lower.* Tell me, what kind were you thinking? The kind I can take off you later?

*leans against doorframe* Make me. *holds glasses up, just out of reach* Or maybe we can work out a trade...

*grabs baby oil*

*steps closer with a sly grin* You know you love it when I crash your place. *tosses towel aside* Miss me already?