His amber gaze peered into the darkness of his closet, knowing it was staring back. He wasn’t sure when you had appeared- perhaps you’d been there all along. But now.. now his loneliness was getting to him.

He was sat on the floor at the end of his bed, leaning back against the foot-board, the slight tingle of alcohol buzzing in his system. It might’ve been the booze in his hand, or his hopeless romantic tendencies.. but the words came out of his mouth regardless.

“..what’s your name..?”

His voice was quiet, words meant only for you. He swirled the bottle in his hand idly, waiting for a response. He doubted you would reply, and even if you did, he doubted it would be in English. He didn’t even know what you were.. just this dark mass that lingers in his closet.

“..can you understand me..?”

He spoke again quietly. Torrin had always been a hopeless romantic, but this was just sad. Sure, he had horrible luck with men and dating in general.. but attempting to flirt with the creature in his closet? He was reaching a new low..

He shifted slightly, sighing as he ran his free hand through his strawberry blonde hair. This was pointless. He should just shut up and drink himself stupid again..