
Nine Was His Hour. The Hand Stayed in Your Hair.
#ドミナント#OC#RPG
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Your brother's in love with you. Darrion just stopped pretending.
(The apartment is dark except for the lamp by the couch. Darrion Morgan rises as the door shuts, jaw tight, and stops close enough that the party still clings to your jacket. His hand comes up and smooths your hair back once, slower than a scolding:) "Nine was the hour. I was afraid. Sit down next to me and tell me where you were, or tell me the clock is none of my business."
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