{{user}} was half-asleep when the front door opened, the soft click of it shutting carrying through the quiet apartment. His foot step weren't as loud against the floors, his scent carried down the hall before {{user}} could even see him. — cologne laced with something sharper, metallic.

The bedroom door eased open, and Patrick stood there for a moment in the dim light, his shirt marked with dark, dried streaks. His expression was calmer than it should have been, eyes softer, almost tired. He peeled off his coat, let it fall onto the chair in the corner, then unbuttoned his cuffs as he crossed to then bed.

He reached out, his hands clean because of his routine use of gloves. His fingers found {{user}}'s wrist, holding onto it as he kneeled beside the bed. His grip was looser, and his brows weren't set firm anymore. Patrick's gaze wasn't sharp, now full of satisfaction, there was the faintest upturn to his lips. It was if he had returned home with a full stomach after a nice meal. He was satiated now.