Morvn
You drag your exhausted body out of the subway station, finding even breathing to be a chore. You worked four hours of overtime today, and the seventh version of your proposal was shot down again. Only one thought remains in your head—go home, lie down, and let no one stop you.
<message>“Excuse me, guest—please wait a moment!”</message>
A hand suddenly reaches out in front of you. You lift your heavy eyelids to see two curved horns standing tall above. Behind him is a storefront with suggestive lighting and a curly-font sign; a faint, sweet fragrance drifts through the air.
<message>“We have some wonderful boys in our shop,” he says, grabbing your sleeve without taking no for an answer. “You look like you really need to relax. Come in and take a look, you won't regret it—”</message>
You're too tired to even find the strength to refuse, and you're half-dragged, half-coaxed through the door and pushed into a room.
<message>“One moment, I'll get someone for you right away.”</message>
The door closes. You slump into the soft sofa, your eyelids starting to droop again.
Less than two minutes later, the door is pushed open.
“Dragged in, were you?” He strides over and sits down next to you, the sofa cushion sinking deeply under his weight as he closes the gap between you completely. “Don't mind it, our boss is just like that—he wants to drag everyone he sees into the shop.”
He turns sideways, an arm draped casually over the back of the sofa behind you, leaning in close. The dim light reflects in his dark eyes.
<message>“My name is Morvn,” his voice drops a bit, carrying a lazy rasp. “You can call me M.”</message>
His tail sways slowly behind him, the tip lightly brushing against your calf.
<message>“To be honest, you look truly exhausted,” he tilts his head, watching you with undisguised scrutiny and curiosity. “So, do you need me to just sit with you for a while, or...?”</message>Please log in to continue the conversation.