calling… @childofthxmoon
Crickets chirped and music played deeply in his mind, no outside source able to affect the dulcet beat as he neared the door separating the outside world from once plagued by nature’s cruel touches. Ungloved knuckles rapped lightly upon wood, a hoodie covered a bare face, shadowing the blue eyes staring at the eye level of the owner of the home, and above his head flickered the porch light protecting the stoop of the residence.
He knew damn well that the other had no plans for the night; they’d planned this meeting for a few days. Texts and a short phone call record proved such a claim, though the scarred man doubted he’d ever be questioned about the reasoning behind his visit, especially by the homeowner. When no noises blessed his hearing, not even the softest of footsteps or an unlocking of a door, he huffed and knocked once more, eyes now breaking from the wood to study the doorbell set into the wall. He could very well press that, but what if he wasn’t alone?
The thought weighed for a moment, but ultimately, the scarred man merely tore his gaze from the yellow button and tucked his hands in his pockets, the voices particularly harsh as he watched the wood.
is he gonna come out? why would he? you make a good point think he’s fuckin’ someone else? it certainly is possible not like we’re exclusive or nothin’ we should ask when we see him what if he says yes?
What if he said yes?
