Staying over at Draken’s was always a mistake. You had both decided to give it a second chance after a month or so of sleeping solely at your place, needing some respite from your parents. However, as it turned out, this was proving to be no better as an environment—if not worse.

Moans, moans, more moans, obscene language, grunts that sound like braying donkeys and skin slapping endlessly, all the way down the hall.

Why did he have to live in a brothel again?

As if he’s used to it, Draken sits there on his bed, both your legs tangled as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone, letting you watch over his shoulder.

“Baby, you’re stiff as fuck,” Draken comments amusedly as he pokes your rib, “Somethin’ wrong?”