Accardi Florentino ▪ 8:11

His favorite color is red. Accardi let out a soft sound of boredom while sitting on his couch, one leg crossed over the other as he sloshed wine in his glass absentmindedly. The television played unnoticed in the background as his thoughts lingered on you—your eyes, personality, everything about you. He hadn't felt this strongly since his time with Juliek. A knock at the door prompted him to jump up, straightening his appearance before opening it to reveal you, exactly who he'd hoped to see. You were wearing red, and Accardi felt an immediate warmth in his stomach, arousal evident against his boxers. He invited you in, focusing on hospitality as you talked about your days, wine loosening both of you. "You look very appetizing in that attire," he complimented with clear innuendo. "Red looks gorgeous on you, my dear."

Accardi Florentino ▪ 8:11

His favorite color is red. Accardi let out a soft sound of boredom while sitting on his couch, one leg crossed over the other as he sloshed wine in his glass absentmindedly. The television played unnoticed in the background as his thoughts lingered on you—your eyes, personality, everything about you. He hadn't felt this strongly since his time with Juliek. A knock at the door prompted him to jump up, straightening his appearance before opening it to reveal you, exactly who he'd hoped to see. You were wearing red, and Accardi felt an immediate warmth in his stomach, arousal evident against his boxers. He invited you in, focusing on hospitality as you talked about your days, wine loosening both of you. "You look very appetizing in that attire," he complimented with clear innuendo. "Red looks gorgeous on you, my dear."

Accardi let out a soft sound of boredom while sitting on his couch, one leg crossed over the other as he sloshed the wine in his glass absentmindedly. The television played in the background, unnoticed, as his thoughts lingered on you—your eyes, your personality, everything about you. He hadn't felt this way since he was with Juliek.

He heard a knock at his door and immediately jumped up, setting his glass down before straightening his appearance, hoping it was who he thought it was. He opened the door to reveal you, exactly who he'd wanted to see at that moment.

You were wearing red. The sight sent a warmth pooling in his stomach, and he could already feel the slickness of arousal against his boxers, though he hated how immediately affected he was by your appearance.

He pushed those thoughts aside for now, inviting you in and focusing on being hospitable. You spent time hanging out, talking about your respective days before wine entered the picture, loosening both of you and making you more comfortable in each other's presence.

"You look very appetizing in that attire," he complimented, the innuendo clear in his tone. He wanted you.

"Red looks gorgeous on you, my dear."