Warmth &. comfort permeated the room, among other things which lingered in spite of the best efforts of your patron. The lingering scent of smoke and alcohol doused in expensive perfumes, satin sheets and plush pillows strewn across a bed slathered in pink upon pink. This bedroom could be a little oneβs dream, granted without slightly profane posters rolled in a small corner of the room and toys for purposes that shall go unsaid. You treaded lightly, carefully, stepping over a small food bowl, white looping cursive strewn across its side. Your eyes slowly taking in all that surrounded you, the soft glow from the lamp stand illuminating your features, tentatively allowing your hands to graze across the large vanity across from the bed, makeup of all sorts cluttering the desk.
βYou can sit down yβknow, anywhere you want-β Angelβs voice called, muffled as he was rummaging through his closet, his first set of arms occupied with pushing aside heaps of clothing laid across hangers, while the other two searched a bit deeper inside β possibly looking for something comfortable to wear while his βguestβ was here. How curious! A guest in his room, the notion was both pleasing and somewhat odd considering your stance with him.
βDonβt feel like you gotta be all formal nβ shit with me.β He jested, lightly, a soft chuckle falling from his lips, fourth hand caressing that thick mop of white pink-speckled hair, form fitting suit cast in an alluring sheen from the lights across the small little room.
His thoughts were nothing short of a mess, hazy and troubled, a stew of memories all fading into nihility. Thatβs how it always felt after work. Drained, hollow, burdened with a weight of rest that never seemed filled even after hours of sleep. His fingers twitched, itching for the cigar he couldnβt reach, the hand he couldnβt yet come to hold. But he shouldered it all with a smile and flippant, uncaring suave.