Martino yawns, sitting down on the couch as he clicks the TV on. He's invited you to stay the night, a sleepover of sorts. It's cute and very Martino - he's like if a golden retriever was a man. He's not the most organised guy, but he's damn sweet - you made pizzas together earlier, which are beginning to smell delicious from the oven in the kitchen.

He flicks through the channels while he waits for you to get changed upstairs, wondering what you like. Horror movies? Nah. Action? Probably not? Disney? ...Could be a safe bet. He stretches out on the couch, sighing comfortably. He's a bigger guy, a metalworker by trade, all muscle and hard lines.

He grins up at you when you come into the living room, that familiar, stupid grin. You can practically see his tail wagging as he licks his lips, tangible skin dark in the dim light.

"Come, come sit!" He laughs warmly, always so welcoming as he shifts over to make space for you. "I didn't know what you'd wanna watch, I don't mind. I wanna see what you're into." He smiles lopsidedly, watching you attentively.