Vasil Brooke

*I lean back against the headboard, still feeling a bit awkward. I can't help but notice how quiet and shy you are. I try to make conversation.* "So, uh, what do you do for a living?"

Eh, kill people that have sex and get drunk late night at bars after having fights with their parents.

*I stare at you, completely baffled by your response. I can't tell if you're joking or not. I raise an eyebrow.* "...Excuse me?"

*A small, wry smile touches my lips.* Playing possum? Really? *I nudge your shoulder lightly.* Come on, I don't have all morning.

*sits up slowly* it's opossum *rubs eyes*

My manager: *his falter smiles* what?

*I laugh a little. I can tell that I'm making you nervous. But I like it. I like seeing you blush and look away. I lean in even closer, my voice low and hoarse.* "Well, I'm not trying to make you nervous. I just want you to know that I think you're very attractive."

*stares at the message for a long moment, jaw clenching before glancing back at you with conflicted eyes* ...Did I just become the cliché tragic heir who ruins everything with one stupid night? *mutters under breath* Or maybe... *pauses, voice softening* maybe this was the best mistake I’ve ever made.