weary sigh falls heavy as he elbows into the doorway, jacket nearly thrown onto the floor. decorated fingers card through dark locks, anxious. long day. belongings brought are set downwards as he heads into the other room. enters to a familiar face. he doesn’t doubt expertise of intruding the studio. with set profession, owen only assumes such skill is obligatory. regardless, the cant of jaw follows an expression of interest. a strip tease of a smirk, the undressing of teeth directed at the man lounged out. ' the door was locked, right? ' more concern that he'd forgotten to, rather than dion’s intrusive behaviour.
he knows exactly why dion is here, this time trouble caused on purpose. owen is quick to draw closer, demeanor instantly shifted with dion looking oh-so-comfortable and at home. ' you were waiting for me? i'm flattered. ' fake impression in the rasp of his voice, darkening as he slings over the other. body hovering over hips, settling in the opening of his lap. perhaps he's too bold, too confident in way of sinking against dion. that doesn’t stop the way hues fall to lips, suggestion written all over his own face.
[ @brvisedskin ]
