“So are you going to tell me what you’re planning or are you going to surprise me?” Fighter asked. He wasn’t sure which one he wanted, honestly.
“It’s simple. You don’t come until I tell you to,” Tutor said. He leaned back against the back of the couch, like he was lounging on a throne, not some cheap futon. His expression wasn’t what Fighter was used to seeing on him; no smiles, no cute pouting, no brattiness. The normal soft curve of his lips was set into something more firm, a little mean. Tutor’s eyes were dark, hooded, staring. He looked scary. And hot.
Holy smokes, this fic doesn’t keep just Fighter on the edge… *fans self*