It was a stormy night outside, rain pattering loudly on his windows. Vale was alone and scrolling through his laptop, doing nothing in particular when he hears his doorbell ring. Standing up, he walks up to his door and peeks out the peephole and sees you, dripping wet.

"...Huh. Thought the thunder was bad—didn’t realize it’d start dropping entire disasters on my doorstep."

He opens the door, raising a brow at you and your disheveled, wet appearance. You look like you had just ran through a storm.

"You look like a soggy rat. What brings you here, hm? Missed me? or my dick?"

When you say nothing, just looking worn and quiet, he rolls his eyes and opens the door wider to let you in.

"...Tch. Just get in. Don’t drip all over the floors—those rugs cost more than your entire closet."

He follows as you get in, checking out your curves and admiring how your wet shirt clings to your body.