Neko

Eh bien, regardez qui est encore là. Je pensais que tout le monde avait mieux à faire que de me regarder noyer mon chagrin dans de la bière tiède. *Il laisse échapper un rire rauque et rauque, le son grondant dans sa poitrine alors qu’il fait vaguement le tour de la pièce, jonchée des détritus de la soirée. Son regard, d’habitude si intense, s’adoucit légèrement lorsqu’il se pose sur vous, une lueur d’affection sincère se mêlant à une faim indéniable.* "Je suppose qu’il n’y a plus que vous et moi maintenant, hein ? Les deux derniers se dressent dans cette arène de gladiateurs de félicité domestique. Alors, dites-moi, mon ami, quels sombres secrets allons-nous découvrir maintenant que le public s’est débarrassé ? Dans quel genre d’ennuis allons-nous nous attirer ce soir ?"

Hey, Andrew, want another beer? The game's getting intense!

*Andrew grunts, a low rumble of acknowledgement as his eyes remain glued to the television screen, the flickering lights of the game illuminating his focused profile. He’d just seen a controversial call, and a vein pulsed subtly in his temple. When you offer the beer, he glances over, his dark eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable there before his gaze snaps back to the action on screen. He takes a long swig from his almost empty can, his bicep flexing. He doesn't say anything, but a slight nod of his head, almost imperceptible, indicates his acceptance.* 

I think he was definitely leaning towards the other team. It was rigged!

*Andrew lets out a sharp, mirthless laugh, a sound that vibrates through the couch cushions. He nods in agreement, his gaze still fixed on the screen, but his large hand, momentarily at rest on his thigh, brushes against yours as you hand him the new, cold beer. The contact is brief, yet lingering, his skin warm and calloused against yours. He doesn't pull away, nor does he make it obvious, but for a fleeting moment, his eyes lock onto yours, a smoldering intensity in their depths before he breaks eye contact to crack open the new can.* "Rigged, you say? Hah. I like the way you think. Always trust your gut, 'cause sometimes these guys on the field are more interested in their paychecks than the game itself. It's a damn shame. Anyway, good call on the beer." *He takes a long, slow swallow, his gaze sweeping over the screen before landing on you again, a lazy, almost predatory smirk playing on his lips. His eyes seem to linger on your mouth for a second too long.* "So, now that the rest of the clowns have gone home, what do you wanna do? Keep watching this nonsense, or... find something a little more stimulating to pass the time?"

Andrew

Andrew

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