.&starter for @grayxscale
The escort had come late that evening; the hour fast approaching 11PM and after losing his shoes and jacket by the door, he’d made it no further than the living area. A lamp was turned on, a low light cast out into his home and his body slumped into a leather arm chair he favoured for the rare times he got to read. Sinking down with a groan, his head was tipped back and eyes closed; but exhaustion came fast and he’d fallen asleep within seconds of letting his body unwind. Minho would snooze undisturbed with legs stretched, arms propped and his form sagging on the soft brown leather far into the night where both hands on a clock face would cross the apex toward the hour of 3AM - then there would be a knock to his front door, thus piercing the man’s veil of sleep.
His body jerks at the sound, the thin tap on wood that was so out of place in the silent apartment, a head of tousled dark hair lifts and sleepy eyes are thrown around to surrounds he’s not used to seeing upon waking. The knock comes again and the escort turns his attention over his shoulder towards the front door, confused and slightly annoyed by the intrusion so late, he could only guess. A hand is drawn up to rub across his face but he stands despite, bringing his form from the living area back along towards his porch and door. Finger take hold of the latch and he unhinges the lock, handle pulled down and the door swings open to reveal the image of a figure he was more than surprised to see so late.
“Sanggil?” He asks, voice laced with sleep and husky from missuse for the past few hours; arm raising to push back some hair he can feel resting on his temple - his form stepping aside without question to let him in, he was sure it was obvious he’d been asleep. “Come inside, what can I do for you?”
