( good boy, she says, and in any other situation — a situation in which rene can think clearly, unburdened by the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears, powered by adrenaline coursing through his veins — he'd laugh at the irony of it all. wild dog, a good boy.
he has no intention of being good for the remainder of the evening, though, now that the seemingly final obstacle has been cleared; the lock clicks, a sound that cuts right through the tension in him. rene is hardly cognizant of his actions as he opens the front door, immediately heads for the stairwell and starts up them, fueled purely by his desires than coherent thinking, phone shoved hastily into the pocket of his hoodie and quickly forgotten.
third floor, apartment 2A. his fingers, curled into a tight fist, rap against the door, knuckles against painted metal. one, two, three, and that's all it takes. now comes perhaps the most difficult part — the anticipation between the knock and the door opening, and he could practically salivate simply thinking about wait awaits him behind it. )
no subject
he has no intention of being good for the remainder of the evening, though, now that the seemingly final obstacle has been cleared; the lock clicks, a sound that cuts right through the tension in him. rene is hardly cognizant of his actions as he opens the front door, immediately heads for the stairwell and starts up them, fueled purely by his desires than coherent thinking, phone shoved hastily into the pocket of his hoodie and quickly forgotten.
third floor, apartment 2A. his fingers, curled into a tight fist, rap against the door, knuckles against painted metal. one, two, three, and that's all it takes. now comes perhaps the most difficult part — the anticipation between the knock and the door opening, and he could practically salivate simply thinking about wait awaits him behind it. )