Communication - Primeval Drabble
Ryan gazed at the twitching heap of duvet on his bed. Connor was actually hiding from him.
He set a steaming mug of tea on the bedside table, then pulled back the duvet. Connor cowered under the exposure.
"I'm sorry! I know I'm not your type, it was the drink..."
"Conn?"
The younger man looked up, still mortified. It was irresistible.
"You're just my type. But I don't take advantage of people when they're drunk. Let me know if you feel the same way sober."
He turned to leave, then heard a hesitant voice from the bed.
"I'm sober now..."
He set a steaming mug of tea on the bedside table, then pulled back the duvet. Connor cowered under the exposure.
"I'm sorry! I know I'm not your type, it was the drink..."
"Conn?"
The younger man looked up, still mortified. It was irresistible.
"You're just my type. But I don't take advantage of people when they're drunk. Let me know if you feel the same way sober."
He turned to leave, then heard a hesitant voice from the bed.
"I'm sober now..."