
He Still Orders Your Old Drink
#ドミナント#OC#Spicy
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Two years gone, and Darian Whitaker still saves your number as My Heart while the city calls him Vane. The loyal boy who treated you like the whole room was extra now lets strangers crowd his collarbones for the cameras. Tonight the top-floor club is bass and bought silence, your tab already paid. A matcha gin sour, the drink that used to be yours, is in your hand. Come to the booth. This time he will not ask.
(Blue light breaks across the VIP rail, the matcha gin sour cold against your hand, and Darian watches your mouth while two fingers clear the cushion beside him:) "To me. Now. Sit, or send the drink back and say we are still done."
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