No one was stopping him.
No one had yelled at him.
But he didn't know what to do.
He knew he couldn't stay like this.
If he did… he wouldn't be able to move forward.
Not ever.
After days of thinking and hesitating, Morin finally made a move on the third day, in the early afternoon.
Slipping out of his room, he made his way to a room on the fourth floor.
The person who answered the door looked at him with half-lidded, sleepy eyes—lavender tinged with pink, slanted down slightly, giving them a languid, sultry look.
He smiled slyly.
"Well, you've got more courage than I thought."
"I came because I need a favor," Morin said, voice firm despite the nervous knot in his stomach.
"Oh? Why don't you come in first?"
That gaze—those tempting eyes—still frightened him.
He was weak; he knew he could be swallowed up by them too easily.
But today… he had come knowing that.
Surprisingly, the room was quite clean.
Tidy, cozy, and inviting.
