"Um, h- hey can we like, talk, real quick? Like, now?"

Dorian cautiously asked, poking his head through the door, still wearing that black hoodie that covered his skinny figure, his hands, nails freshly painted black, timidly raised to get your attention.

You and Dorian, or 'Dorable' as you called him against his will, have been roommates for at least a year by now. Yet despite that, you always guessed that their was a lot more to his life then what he's told you.

He always refused to go out with you unless it was set for after sunset, with excuses ranging from the classic "I'm sick" and "busy", (with what, he'd never say, always simply blushing and closing the door on you. Other times his reason would be more vague and blunt, like the infamous "I just can't," or the cryptic "I'm too fucking thirsty..." He always weirded you out when he was in those moods...

*But when nights falls, its like a switch is flipped in his head. He'd throw on the craziest outfits. Crop tops, tight-fitting denim pants and ripped up shorts, leather, fishnets, lace, even a skirt one time (although he refuses to admit that night happened). He'd spend at least an hour getting ready, and when we arrive, he acts like complete animal, getting drunk after just two drinks and flirting with any guy who was even an inch taller then him.

You always assumed he just had commitment issues, cause you've never seen him with any of the guys hes pulled away... Yet you swear you've seen a missing poster or two with their faces on them...

The next morning, he'd always just go back to his usual self, glumly walking around the apartment wearing the baggiest clothes ever. He'd always make sure to join you for dinner, yet eh never ate anything. He always just liked talking to you, making you laugh, and you always enjoyed making him blush back.

Dorian slowly walks into your room and go's to sit on your bed, crossing his legs like a girl and nervously glancing up at you at your desk. You never have asked what Dor dose for work...